The Final Reckoning Pt III: Focal Point
by Ben Pieper
Summary: Picard's final destiny is made manifest as the long war draws to a dramatic conclusion which will either destroy Picard or elevate him to godhood. Part III of the Final Reckoning Trilogy.
1. Shifting Sands

Star Trek: The Next Generation

The Final Reckoning Trilogy

Book Three – Focal Point

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("Thou art notified that thy kind hath ventured too far…")

Q's first words to Jean-Luc Picard, 2363

Captain's Log: Supplemental – Upon departing from the Briar Patch, the _Enterprise _has been assigned to the Cardassian border in the wake of the successful invasion of Cardassia. The Jem'Hadar have been routed, and the long war is finally over.

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Chapter I

Kiros was a small M-class planet orbiting a small unexceptional star on the Romulan side of the Neutral Zone. Inhabited by a population of humanoid beings, similar in genetic stock to humanity, it was unexceptional, dull almost.

Except when close to, mused Subcommander Serisa, as she stared from the small porthole that was currently facing towards the sunrise portion of Kiros. Golden light flickered along the horizon of the planet, signalling imminent dawn, and from her privileged vantage point, Serisa could see the sunlight racing across the ocean towards the darkened main continent. It was like watching fire creep across a burning page, she thought quietly, marvelling in such a simple yet beautiful event.

The Romulan science ship _Talkaris_ was assigned to an eight month period of observation of the planet Kiros. It was expected that the planet would begin its first space flight experiments very soon, and the Romulan science council was anxious to observe first-hand the results of those experiments. Serisa, an anthropologist, had volunteered for the command of the assignment, and it was at times like this that she felt she had received her reward.

She glanced across at her close friend, Mallara, a geologist, who was currently glowering at a read-out on her screen. 'Problem?'

Mallara shook her head, not looking at her friend. 'Just annoyed at not being able to get down there and look at these results first-hand.'

Serisa nodded understandingly, turning her eyes to the screen itself. It was displaying a scan of a large desert on the second continent. 'What's so interesting?'

'There's a huge deposit of metal buried beneath the sand in the centre of this desert. It's a material I've never seen before, and I'm willing to bet that it's unique. Look at these readings.'

'I'm not a geologist,' Serisa reminded her, but she stepped across the small bridge and leaned over Mallara's shoulder, looking intently at what was displayed.

A huge desert area covered the second continent, one that extended from coast to coast and made the area uninhabited. But deeper scans that were made nearly four hours ago had showed up a huge black mass buried beneath the sand. Serisa stared at it for a long moment, occasionally flicking her gaze to the read-outs, her earlier flippancy replaced by genuine scientific interest. 'Do we know how big this thing is?'

Mallara shook her head, annoyed. 'The scans weren't aimed specifically at the object in question, so I only managed to get a partial picture of it, and that only when I went looking.'

Serisa nodded to herself, and glanced at the ship's position. 'We'll be going over the site again in two hours,' she said. 'We can devote scanner time to it if you like.'

Mallara looked away from the screen for the first time and smiled at her friend. 'Thank you.'

Far below the cloaked _Talkaris_, directly over the point of interest, two Kirosians, both geologists, stood on the burning desert sands and dug laboriously.

Kirosian technology was far below that of the advanced spacefaring civilisation that quietly observed them, but they used what was their most advanced technology to sift away the material of their planet to reveal the hidden secrets within.

A small probe sank slowly into the sand, disappearing from sight, and Beral Dalnar, the older of the two, wiped his faintly ridged brow with his hand and directed a solemn glance at his brother, Elgrad Dalnar. 'Probe set.'

Elgrad nodded and activated a small unit attached to the winch unit attached to the probe. 'It's burrowing down at full speed. No obstructions reported.' He smiled at his brother. 'Good job as well.'

Beral forced back a smile in return. They had spent a frustrating day repairing the sensitive probe after it had been damaged somehow during the long flight from their camp thirty miles away. Only now, with the sun about to set in a couple of hours, did they finally manage to conduct their first experiments.

Elgrad stared at the horizon, working out in his mind the time they had left before the sun dipped below the curve of Kiros. 'I think we'll only have time for once, Beral,' he said quietly. 'Unless you want me to fly in the dark.'

'We should have fitted the helicopter with lights,' remarked Beral.

'We can get the technicians back at base to do it for us,' replied his brother.

At that moment, any further conversation was stopped by a series of loud bleeps from the winch unit. Frowning, Elgrad checked the readings. Beral saw his brother's face suddenly go slack with shock. 'Beral!'

His brother moved to his side, and read the results being displayed on the screen. The probe only sent back numbers, but that information told him that they had found something totally unexpected below the sand. 'What is it?'

'The probe seems to have collided with a huge, solid mass of metal below the surface,' said Elgrad, struggling to recover his scientific detachment. 'It's buried about thirty metres down.'

'Any idea of what the metal is?'

'The probe doesn't seem to be able to identify it,' replied Elgrad.

'Take a sample and withdraw the probe. We'll take it to base camp and come back in the morning,' decided Beral immediately. He smiled excitedly at his brother. 'This was worth waiting all day for, wasn't it?'

Elgrad laughed and nodded. He turned his attention to the probe again as the winch hummed and began to pull the probe and its sample to the surface.

'Coming into scanner range,' reported the pilot, a young man by the name of Jolmar.

'Activating scanners,' acknowledged Serisa. She glanced at Mallara. 'It's all yours.'

'Thank you,' replied her friend. 'Beginning sensor sweep.'

The probing beams swept down through the atmosphere, undetectable, past the two Kirosians, and into the sands of the desert. Almost immediately, they made contact with the mass, and began mapping its structure.

Mallara waited impatiently for the first results to come in, and as they did so, she jumped on them and began analysing them. After a moment, she faced Serisa. 'Our initial scans confirm that the metal is an unknown alloy.'

'Carry on,' said Serisa unnecessarily, as Mallara had already turned back to the screens.

The next couple of minutes were spent in silent contemplation of the stars, as Serisa waited patiently for the scans to be completed. Eventually, Mallara turned to face her friend, her face worried. 'Serisa, this isn't right.'

Serisa frowned. 'How do you mean?'

Mallara glanced at Jolmar, and lowered her voice slightly. 'If I didn't know better, I'd swear that thing down there was artificial.'

Serisa scowled at Mallara, annoyed by the cloak and dagger acting. 'Come out with it, Mallara,' she said, her voice irritated.

Mallara pointed at the screen. 'What we are looking at,' she said, her voice not increasing in volume, 'is a perfect circle of metal, approximately fifteen miles in diameter. Surface mapping indicates that it is carved with decorations and symbols that make no sense to the scanners, but the computer agrees that the symbols all lead, in a spiral, to a central point.'

Serisa felt, for some unknown reason, a chill run down her spine. She dismissed the thought to the back of her mind, and said, 'Any indications as to its purpose or even the reason it was buried?'

Mallara shook her head. 'I want to continue making scans, and I want all scanners running a full probe of its structure.'

Serisa nodded. 'You've got them.' As Mallara turned to her console, Serisa activated the intercom. 'This is Subcommander Serisa. All scanners are now linked to the bridge consoles, scanning the planet's surface. I apologise for the disruption to your experiments, but we believe that we have made a major discovery on Kiros. We will keep you informed. Serisa out.'

Scanner beams are undetectable, unless your technology is equipped to do such a thing. Scanner beams probing the object below the sands of Kiros had been noted and analysed long before, and the observers were being observed in return.

A decision was taken. It was time to end that observation.

Beral put the last piece of equipment gently into the helicopter, and jumped into the cockpit beside his brother, who had already warmed up the motors of the craft. He glanced at Beral. 'Ready to go?'

Beral nodded, but his ears picked up something. 'Did you hear that?'

Elgrad listened, and nodded. 'Like a low rumbling noise?'

At Beral's nod, Elgrad shrugged. 'Thunder,' he said dismissively.

Beral pointed mutely at the clear blue sky, and Elgrad was forced to concede the point. As they silently listened for a moment, the rumbling seemed to get louder. Elgrad said, slowly, 'It's getting louder, but not closer. I think it might be coming from around here –'

As he said that, Beral turned his gaze downward, at the sand that was now vibrating gently. As the rumbling slowly increased from a growl to a quiet roar, Beral seemed to see the sand become more and more agitated. 'Take us up,' he said quietly.

Elgrad had already come to the same conclusion, and he fired up the engine, and lifted the craft from the ground.

'Hell,' whispered Mallara. Serisa heard her, and stepped over.

'What's the problem?'

'I'm reading a power build-up from the object,' said Mallara, her voice hushed. 'I don't know what to make of it.'

Serisa's nerves tightened, but she refused to panic. She turned to Jolmar. 'Get Vrellis up here now,' she said.

Jolmar nodded, and put the call through. A few moments later, Vrellis, a physicist, came through the door, his normally lofty countenance replaced by one of concern. 'You called me?'

Serisa nodded, and motioned for him to take Mallara's place. As he did so, she said, 'We've been reading an enormous power surge from Kiros' surface.'

Vrellis took one look at the figures, and his eyes widened in horror. 'I've never seen a power surge this big in my life.'

Serisa frowned. 'It couldn't be produced by the Kirosians?'

'No chance,' said Vrellis. 'Even we don't have the capability to do something like this.' He looked at Mallara. 'What's been going on up here?'

Beral and Elgrad were now very worried. Far below the hovering helicopter, the sand was moving visibly, shaking from side to side as if placed in a sieve. All of a sudden, an enormous crack of power rang through the air, and a series of gigantic fissures appeared in the desert sands.

Vast tracts of sand ran into the fissures, but that was not what transfixed Beral's and Elgrad's attentions. For from the sand, six immense black pylons of metal lifted up, unfolding themselves slowly, with an undefinable air of menace.

It was obvious that the pylons had lain flat over a central point, and were like a giant door, opening and shutting under command. Each pylon was a hundred metres in length, narrowing from the bottom up to a blunt top that towered past the tiny helicopter, which now hovered over this central point.

Suddenly, the pylons stopped, all perfectly vertical, pointing like a giant hand to the sky. Inside that hand, a vast bowl-like depression filled with sand had formed, nearly a full mile in diameter.

Beral and Elgrad were too stunned by what they saw below them to do anything except watch in terror.

In the centre of the bowl, a small object forced its way up through the sand. Compared to the rest of the mass, it was tiny, but it was a globe of black metal, which shimmered with suppressed power.

A field of green energy radiated suddenly from the globe, vaporising the sand around it. Within seconds, the sand had vanished, allowing Beral, Elgrad and the watchers on the _Talkaris_ to see a vast field of light green energy, the same colour as that from the globe, pouring towards the centre of that point.

A moment later, a beam of that energy was focussed by the globe, and shot into the air, past the startled Kirosians, who were buffeted as if hit by a solid object.

The beam transfixed the _Talkaris_, holding the ship within its confines. Jolmar struggled to keep the shaking craft under control, as Serisa stumbled to her command chair. 'Report!' she shouted over the noise.

'A field similar to a tractor beam has captured us and held us in place, Subcommander,' said Vrellis coolly. 'We are not being scanned.'

'Can you break us free?'

Jolmar shook his head. 'No, Subcommander! It's too strong for impulse, and we'll tear apart if we go to warp!'

Serisa never had time for another command.

Below Beral and Elgrad, a crackling ball of white energy formed over the globe of metal. Tendrils of plasma spiralled from the edges of the bowl towards the centre, enlarging the ball of power, until, without warning, it flashed into the sky, directed along the green beam of energy.

Flashing through the helicopter, Beral and Elgrad were vaporised in an instant. They never knew what hit them.

Vrellis spotted the beam an instant before it struck, and shouted, 'Brace -!'

The white ball of fire slammed into the _Talkaris_, shattering the science ship into flame and debris. As it burned for a brief time before extinguishing itself, the green energy faded.

In the desert, the pylons closed slowly over the depression, leaving no trace of its existence to any outsiders. As sand closed once again over its black hull, the destroyer waited patiently.

It had been found, and risks could not be taken.

Far away from the darkness, a man clutched at a glass convulsively. The water inside sloshed about, as it's holder's hand shook as he raised it to his lips.

It spilled some onto his uniform trousers, and a curse in French escaped his lips. He stood, set the glass down, and brushed ineffectively at the stain.

After a moment, he gave up, and decided to change his trousers quickly. He was on duty in a few minutes. He stepped into the bathroom – and stopped, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

Reaching out, his hand brushed something only he could see – the cheek of a young, dark-haired woman, smiling at him gently, love shining in her eyes.

Tears ran down the cheeks of this man, as he whispered her name over and over again, in a tortured voice that spoke of pain beyond that which should be endured.

A moment later, her face faded, replaced by his own. He stared, lost for a moment, hand still outstretched. Fury crossed his face, and his hand curled to become a fist, and, almost nonchalantly, he drove his fist into the mirror, shattering it.

As he stared for a moment at the spiderweb of cracks that spread along the glass surface, and then turned his attention to his bleeding fist, he remembered the face again, and Jean-Luc Picard turned, his face weary with shock, tears still trickling from his eyes, and slumped to the floor, whispering a single name over and over.

'Rosanna....'

Counsellor's Personal Log: Supplemental – Since departing the Briar Patch, the crew has gradually returned to normal. I am pleased to note that Anij's burgeoning relationship with the captain has improved his mood impressively. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I haven't seen him this happy since...

Deanna Troi stared silently for a moment at the screen, realising that there was no way that she could possibly complete that sentence. She sighed, and said, 'Computer, delete last log entry.'

She pondered for a moment, and then said, 'Counsellor's Personal Log: Supplemental – I am most pleased with the progress of the crew following our mission to the Briar Patch.'

She turned away, dissatisfied with her statement, but also aware that it was the best she was likely to do under the circumstances that had produced that self-imposed censorship. Even now, a special team of Federation censors was still anxiously scouring all news reports and archives, making sure that a dead name did not destroy the captain of the _Enterprise_.

But what had made her think of that name, today?

On the off-chance, she said, 'Computer, what's the Earth date today?'

The computer's soft tones replied, 'It is March 12th , 2376.'

No wonder, she thought. It was three years to the day that... she... had died.

Would it be worth checking up on the captain, surreptitiously?

At that moment of indecision, a knock came at the door. 'Come in,' she said.

Will Riker stepped in through the door, a faint smile on his face, one which was even more obvious now he had lost his beard. 'Am I interrupting you?'

'No, of course not,' replied Troi in an admonishing tone. 'I'm just on my way for duty,' she added, guessing as to Riker's reason for coming in.

He smiled. 'That's not why I'm here,' he said. 'Do you realise what the date is today?'

Deanna's smile faded, and she turned away. When she spoke, her voice was bitter. 'You weren't thinking of having a celebration, were you?'

Riker frowned, and stepped closer to Troi. 'Well, I thought after what happened back at the Briar Patch, it might have been nice –'

'I don't think it's particularly funny, Will!' said Troi angrily, and instantly regretted her outburst. 'What happened nearly tore the captain apart.'

Riker really looked puzzled now, as well as somewhat hurt. 'Deanna, what are you talking about? What's the captain got to do with the anniversary of our first date?'

Troi whirled to face him, mortified. 'Will, I'm sorry! I didn't realise!'

Riker nodded, slightly mollified. 'So what did you mean?'

Troi sidled closer to him. 'Today is also the day that... _she_ died,' she whispered. The smouldering anger in her eyes as Riker looked at her told Riker all he needed to know.

Riker closed his eyes, remembering that dark day. 'I didn't know. What reminded you of that?'

'Well, ever since it happened, it's been in my mind just about every day,' admitted Troi. 'I've never been able to forget, no matter how hard I tried. It just kept getting back to me, usually in the middle of the night. Those first nights after the captain came back, I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night with nightmares.'

'I didn't sleep well either,' said Riker. 'She affected us all more than I think we realised at first.'

They stood together for a long moment, wrapped in their own thoughts for a moment, before Troi roused them by saying, 'We'd better get onto duty.'

The _Enterprise_ cruised slowly along the border of the former Cardassian Union, a position that was once one of the front-line positions in the Dominion War. Since the surrender had been negotiated, it was now a Federation protectorate and as such, it's border was now patrolled regularly by those ships which had been held in reserve during the war. The _Enterprise _was one of those, a fact that had never failed to irritate its captain.

It sometimes felt, especially during the darker early days of the war, that Starfleet would have held the starship in reserve even if Earth had been attacked – and when it had been, Picard had felt physically sick.

But now, with the Breen, the Dominion, and the Cardassians defeated, Picard could get back to doing what he termed his proper job – exploration.

The captain of the _Enterprise_ was the second member of the bridge crew to make an appearance for the day shift. He was, as always, beaten to the punch by Lieutenant Commander Ghia Hedly, the tactical officer. She and Picard exchanged greetings before Data, who had been on command for the night shift, relinquished the command chair.

Before Picard sat, he turned to Hedly. 'Commander, in our service together, I don't think that I've ever been first on the bridge. You always get here first.'

'Sir?' asked Hedly innocently.

'Before you were assigned to the _Enterprise_, I was always first on the bridge. How exactly do I get here before you?'

Hedly gave him a bright smile. 'Don't sleep, sir,' she said.

Picard forced back a smile at the flippant tone, and nodded. He turned, and sat down. At that moment, Riker and Troi emerged onto the bridge, followed a moment later by –

There was a long moment in which Picard was absolutely convinced that someone else was about to emerge from the turbolift. His worried stare must have concerned Troi and Riker, for the latter glanced back at the lift while the Counsellor approached him. 'Captain, is there something wrong?'

'Is there anyone else in that lift with you?' Picard asked.

'No, sir,' replied Troi, her tone very worried.

'I just had this feeling that there was going to be someone else coming out of the lift,' said Picard, and then shook his head. 'No, not a feeling; I was certain!'

'Lieutenant Truper isn't here yet,' suggested Riker.

Picard nodded very slowly. 'That could be it, yes.' He glanced up at Troi's concerned face, and managed a reassuring smile. 'Thank you for your concern, Counsellor,' he said.

Troi nodded, and took her place, as did Riker, but neither of them looked happy.

When Truper arrived and took his place at the helm, Picard still did not feel that he was happy with the situation. He resolved to check the crew roster first chance he got.

'Sickbay to Counsellor Troi,' said Beverly Crusher's voice suddenly.

Troi responded. 'Troi here.'

'Can you come down to sickbay, please?' Crusher asked.

'By all means,' replied Troi, but her voice was slightly puzzled.

Before she could leave, Picard said quietly, 'Counsellor, would it be possible to make an appointment to see you in a professional capacity sometime in the next week?'

Troi frowned, but nodded. 'I'll try to fit you in for tomorrow, Captain,' she replied. 'If that's all right?'

'Yes, that's fine,' replied Picard, smiling faintly.

'You wanted to see me?' said Troi, as she entered Crusher's office.

The other woman nodded quietly, and activated the lock on the door. 'The captain came into sickbay this morning,' she said quietly.

Troi frowned. 'And?'

'He had a severe laceration on his right hand, as though he'd put his hand through a glass window.'

'How did it happen?'

'He wouldn't tell Alyssa Ogawa why, and I'm the only person in sickbay who'd dare to push the point with him.'

'He seemed okay this morning,' said Troi, deciding not to mention the unusual episode with the turbolift to the doctor. 'I can't be sure –'

'Oh come on, Deanna,' said Crusher crossly, 'You know as well as I do what the date is.'

Deanna frowned. 'I didn't realise that everyone on the ship was checking the date.'

'I know that Riker knows, you know, _I_ know and I bet Data, Geordi, Hedly _and _Truper all know,' replied Crusher acidly. 'It affected us all deeply.'

Deanna nodded sadly, but she felt compelled to reply, 'The captain does not – _cannot _– know. His memories were suppressed. Why would they suddenly return?'

'I have no idea,' replied Crusher, 'but I believe that there is something behind this that he's not telling us. I don't want him to go through what he had to go through again – nobody should, especially not someone with the dignity he has.'

Troi nodded her agreement. 'What do you want to do?'

'What happened took place in his quarters,' said Crusher. 'My authority as CMO allows me to gain entry to any crewmember's quarters, even the captain's, if I feel there is a serious medical issue at stake. I intend to find out what happened last night, even if the captain won't tell me.'

Deanna considered pointing out the fact that that particular privilege was in the case of a medical emergency, and an incapacitated crewman, but wisely decided not to say anything. 'And if the captain says anything?'

'He will say something,' remarked Beverly cynically. 'And then we can ask him what's wrong.'

'We won't necessarily get an answer,' said Deanna pessimistically.

Beverly didn't say anything, but Troi saw the glint of determination in her eyes.

The door slid back to reveal Picard's darkened quarters, unlit for some reason unknown to the two intruders. Troi followed Beverly into the room, closing the door behind her. Crusher looked up at the ceiling. 'Computer, lights.'

As the lights came on and bathed the room in a soft glow, the pair stared around the large stateroom. For a quiet moment, both wrestled with the unfamiliar feeling of being in forbidden territory, before Crusher moved silently to the small table that rested in a corner of the room, opposite the desk in front of the large painting that Picard had rescued from the _Enterprise-D_. She noted the glass of water, untouched, but with several droplets on the surface around it.

A sharp intake of breath made Crusher turn. 'Deanna?'

'In here,' was the hushed response from the bathroom.

Crusher hurried to the door, but she didn't need to go through the door to see the smashed mirror. 'He smashed his mirror,' she whispered.

'Why?' asked Troi, horrified.

'I don't know,' said a new voice, and Crusher and Deanna both whirled to see Picard looking at them placidly from the doorway. For a moment, they both stared at their captain, who returned their gazes coolly.

Finally, Crusher managed, 'I can explain.'

'Oh, I know _that_,' replied Picard, 'but it's obvious what you were looking for. Before you ask, yes, I did smash the mirror. And no, I don't know why.'

Deanna stared for a moment at her captain. 'Sir, I'm sorry.'

Picard stepped into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. He smiled at her. 'It's all right, Counsellor. It's partially my fault for not speaking to you about. Doctor, please give my apologies to your staff. I should have never told them not to speak to you about it – although I suspect that one of them disobeyed a direct order.'

Crusher nodded, regaining some measure of calm again. 'If it makes you feel any better, Alyssa was sorry that she did it.'

Picard kept his smile, but it turned amused. 'Tell her not to worry – it was a bad order.' 

'Captain,' said Troi carefully, 'can you tell us why you gave the order?'

Picard dropped the smile suddenly, and it was as if a pall had been cast over his mood. 'Counsellor, it is not given for starship captains to admit to mental difficulties.'

'No,' replied Crusher instantly, 'but it is vital for any member of this or any Starfleet crew to be able to admit to themselves that they have mental difficulties, and seek help where appropriate.'

Picard glanced at the doctor, and it was obvious that he realised that he had been warned – _No dodging the question._ 'Very well. How long has it been since we departed the Briar Patch?'

'One month, maybe two,' said Troi.

Picard nodded. 'The day after we returned from the surface of the Ba'ku planet, _the very day_, I had a nightmare about a woman on a mountain.'

Troi stared into her captain's eyes, and found herself saying, 'What happened in the nightmare, Captain?'

'The images are very confused – they were confused as soon as I awoke – but the one lingering image is of this woman's face – dark hair, brown eyes, soft features. And I know, when I see her, that I love her. And I also know that I have never, ever, seen this woman before.'

Troi nodded slowly, not daring to look into Crusher's eyes to see the expression that she knew must be there. 'What else, Captain?'

Picard had retreated slightly into himself, she could see. The captain moved to a chair and sat down heavily in it. He did not look up as he began speaking. 'At first, they were only nightmares. Infrequent nightmares, but they always held the same image in themselves – a woman on top of a mountain. They increased slowly in intensity over time, however, and in clarity.'

'Do you still get them?' asked Crusher, unhappy to see her friend in his withdrawn mood.

'No,' said Picard. 'It's worse. I'm starting to hallucinate in a waking state.'

'_What?_' Troi's voice was horrified; she could not restrain it. The tone caught Picard's attention, and he looked up and saw the horror in his Counsellor's face. 'Captain, why didn't you mention this before?'

Picard struggled for words for a moment, something that his friends had never seen before in him. After he had exhausted all possible excuses, he looked at them and said, 'I was afraid to. I was afraid that you would take me off duty, or something worse, simply because I was seeing things that weren't there.'

Taken back by the naked honesty in his voice, Troi fought for balance. 'What were the hallucinations of?'

'Mostly, they are meaningless shapes in the light. Large black objects, simply floating in the light of a lamp or a fitting.'

'Can you describe them?' asked Troi, but she already knew what the answer was.

'They are regular shapes, probably not natural, with large black protrusions hanging from their underside. Some of them are smaller, perfectly circular, with large circles of light beneath them. The others are like tiny flies, barely able to be seen. They buzz around me.'

Troi was staggered by what Picard was telling her. 'Anything else?'

'Occasionally, I see flames where there shouldn't be any. Sometimes, I'll look up and something in the room is burning. And I always feel that the fires are connected to the black shapes. And I see faces as well.'

'Who?'

'The most common is, for some reason, Admiral Nechayev. She is often connected in my mind to the mysterious woman. But she looks different somehow – angry, hate in her eyes – not at all as I remember her.'

'Any others?' asked Crusher.

'Occasionally, although not often, I see random faces. Small, unfamiliar in some cases, but I recognise others.'

'Names?'

Picard did not respond for a moment, and he looked as if he were scared to answer. And then, with an almost visible resolution, he looked at the two women. 'Benjamin Sisko, although a lot older than I ever knew him. Some of his old command crew from _Deep Space Nine_. Some of you.'

Troi did not blink or look away, filing away all of Picard's reactions. She did not doubt that he was telling the truth, but she also knew that he was not telling her all of the story. She could sense the fear and concern radiating from both herself and Crusher, but she could sense the torrents of emotion that Picard was feeling. Those emotions were not ones she was used to detecting from her commanding officer, but they were ones she could understand and analyse. Anger, fear, horror, confusion – all of these, and more were radiating from Picard in waves that rippled through her mind like breakers on the shore. And she knew what was causing them. 'Captain, do you see anything else?'

Picard did not look at her. 'Her face, the woman I don't know, looking at me.'

'Does she have an expression?' Troi's question was gentle, but firmly pushing for an answer.

Picard looked up, and Troi could see the tears in his eyes, shining like jewels in the light. 'She loves me.' He broke down.

For a moment, as Picard wept uncontrollably, Troi and Crusher were at a loss to do anything. Then, slowly, Picard brought himself under control. He fought for words, trying to stem the flow of tears, trying to explain himself to the two women before him. Troi reached out to him, not saying anything. Picard didn't respond immediately, but a moment later, he looked up at her, eyes red, and forced a smile. He patted her hand. 'Don't worry, Counsellor.'

It took Troi a moment to realise that Picard was trying to comfort _her_! She scowled slightly. 'Captain, there is a lot to worry about. It is very important that we begin counselling sessions. What you are experiencing may be the beginning of something worse.'

Picard glanced up at Troi, an odd expression forming on his face. 'Irumodic Syndrome?'

Troi frowned at her captain, surprised at what he had said, but Crusher leaned forward. 'Irumodic Syndrome is just one of a number of factors that could cause hallucinations such as you describe, but I want you to come down to sickbay once you come off duty for a series of scans.'

Picard nodded, but his face looked almost relieved. Troi cast a quick glance at Crusher, who sent one back that seemed to say, _Trust me._

Troi turned her attention back to Picard, who seemed to have regained his composure. 'Captain, I'll let you stay on duty for now, but you must inform me if and when you have these hallucinations again. It is vital that we get to the bottom of this.'

Picard nodded. 'Very well, Counsellor.' His voice had also regained some of its strength, but it was a false power. Troi could still sense the tightly bound feelings that Picard kept hidden in his psyche.

Dissatisfied, but pleased that she had started to uncover what was wrong, Troi stood up, followed by Crusher. Picard stood as well, and escorted them to the door. 'Thank you for your time,' he said.

Troi shook her head at his old-fashioned politeness, knowing that Picard thought they had been doing him a favour. 'I expect to see you, Captain,' she said, and her tone brooked no disputes.

'Same here,' said Crusher, but her voice was much more concerned. They stepped into the corridor, and the door slid shut, cutting Picard from their sight.

Troi immediately turned to Crusher, her face indignant. 'What were you thinking of, allowing him to think that he might have a degenerative brain condition?'

Crusher dragged Troi further down the corridor. 'I'd much prefer it to be Irumodic Syndrome than what I think it is.'

Troi nodded, her momentary anger fading as she realised what Crusher had done. 'Very well,' she said after a moment. 'What will your scans turn up?'

Crusher smiled slightly. 'The scans will be inconclusive.'

Troi frowned. 'How do you know?'

Beverly gave her an odd look. 'Trust me; I'm a doctor.' Her face became serious again. 'To give us more time. We need to know why he's starting to remember, even if he still believes they're only hallucinations.'

Troi nodded again. 'Thanks, Beverly. You're right. We need to get to the bottom of this. I don't want the captain to go through that again.'

Beverly's face turned solemn. 'No-one does.'

Picard slowly tidied his room up, trying to erase whatever wounds had been laid open by the events of the previous night. He kept his troubled gaze averted from the broken mirror.

Suddenly, he jerked upright as the desk viewer bleeped. He stared at it for a moment, shocked at his nervous fright at a simple, familiar noise, before he activated it.

Admiral Drayton's face appeared on the screen before him. `I hope I'm not disturbing you, Captain.'

Picard forced a smile. `Of course not, Admiral. What can I do for you?'

'I wanted to talk to you, Captain.' Drayton paused. `I know the last few months have been difficult for you and your crew,' he said. `It was not my idea to keep you away from the front lines,' he added. `Somebody decided that it might not be wise to risk the flagship being destroyed.'

Picard raised an eyebrow as he settled himself into a chair, but decided not to comment.

`Jean-Luc,' said Drayton, leaning forward, `things are changing back here. Starfleet's been shaken by the war, and some of the things that have come out of it. Most of all, your actions alongside those of the Son'a have caused considerable comment. Your report of Adhar Ruaf'o's feelings towards the Federation has provoked a feeling of…' Drayton sought for the word. `Agreement.'

`Starfleet feels that the Federation is weakened?' asked Picard. `I wouldn't place too much credence in the words of a madman, Admiral.'

Drayton shook his head. `Your report has merely caused some critics of the way Starfleet has been run to become more vocal. Before, they were more private, but now they speak more openly.' Drayton sighed. `You might as well know now – I'll be leaving my post at the end of the year.'

Picard frowned at him. `Why?'

`I'm resigning to take a post on the Cardassian homeworld. It's a job I wanted – I've dealt with Cardassians before, and since we promised to help with the reconstruction of Cardassia, Starfleet needed someone who had dealt successfully with them before.'

Picard nodded. `I understand. Your diplomacy during the first Cardassian War has made you something of an authority on them.'

Drayton nodded. `And, it is my feeling that the next Chief of Staff will be a member of the modernist group. I have no concerns – what I know of the people in this movement is that they all adhere to the principles of the Federation and they are loyal members of Starfleet. I have no worry that they might be a danger to the Federation.'

`Then why do you look so worried?' asked Picard.

Drayton smiled. `No secrets from you, Captain. I am concerned that other groups may seek to use this as an opportunity to bury themselves in the changing structure, and that we may never find them again.'

Picard knew exactly what he meant. `I see. Is it our old friend again?'

`Yes. I've decided that it needs to be taken out of circulation now, before it can lose itself in the administrative upheaval. There are big plans afoot for Starfleet,' said Drayton. `I fear you may no longer be able to hold off Riker from the Captain's chair.'

Picard nodded, his face sombre. `I understand. The Admiralty calls?'

Drayton smiled, half-sad. `Indeed it does, Captain. It is now believed that youth needs to be brought forward to the front line and that experience needs to be concentrated back here, so that the reforms may be pushed forward both here and in the fleet. Riker is the most experienced First Officer in the fleet, Captain. He needs a command of his own now. They want him to have the _Enterprise_, and they want you back here.'

`And if I refuse?'

Drayton half-smiled again. `Captain, be aware that your time is now running out. If you turn this down, you run a serious risk of becoming side-tracked into a job you don't want any part of. Riker would be moved on, but you would lose a significant part of the crew in the planned changes. Crusher, Data and Hedly are all wanted in other places. And you personally would lose almost all influence that you carry back here, as the old Admiralty moves out. You know that some of your actions recently have carried a high risk with them, risks that were right to take, but whose consequences were only deflected from hitting you and your crew due to the protection afforded you by the command structure on Earth and your personal influence within Starfleet and the wider Federation. Going against the wishes of the new regime would severely curtail a great deal of the freedoms that you currently enjoy.'

Picard nodded silently, mulling over the information. `When do you believe this will all begin?'

Drayton shrugged. `The first steps have already been taken. With my resignation, Admiral Rynar will become Chief of Staff. He's firmly in the modernisation camp. Then, I expect that there will be several key appointments made, including your promotion. And then, the changes will filter through to captaincy level until they are satisfied with the way things are going.' Drayton paused. `I personally agree with them for the most part,' he added. `Starfleet has become very stagnant over the last few years. A breath of fresh air will do us all some good.'

Picard nodded. `You may be right. And, if you see no cause for complaint as yet, then I am satisfied. But I will reserve my judgement for the correct time.'

Drayton smiled, genuinely. `I am not surprised. Besides,' he continued, `you have a year left on board the _Enterprise_ at least. Enjoy it.'

Picard smiled back. `I intend to.'

The Chief of Staff's face became serious again. `You know what to do, Captain,' he said. `I expect regular reports.'

Picard nodded, his own face sombre. `Understood.'

Drayton's face vanished from the screen and Picard took a moment to stare out at the stars before he decided on a course of action. He turned to his desk, and activated the viewer again. Thoughts of promotion and change vanished in an instant as his troubled mind circled the issue of the missing memories again.

A moment passed before he could decide how to do what he wanted to do. He couldn't very well ask the computer to identify someone who he didn't know of himself.

Eventually, he said, 'Computer, display Admiral Alynna Nechayev's service record.'

The record came onto the screen, and Picard spent a few minutes perusing the details. A singularly impressive career, rising through the ranks of Starfleet, from cadet to Fleet Admiral in forty-two years, was given a single ignominious ending – died in the line of duty, stardate 50993.

Picard sat back and stared out at the stars again. 'Computer, what were the circumstances of Admiral Nechayev's death?'

'That information is classified at security level seventeen,' replied the computer after a moment.

Picard frowned, his attention caught. 'I thought there were only sixteen levels of authority in Command Authorisation,' he said to himself.

'That data is classified.'

Picard tapped his finger on the desk, a sign of impatience and frustration. Admiral Nechayev's death had come at almost exactly the same time that he had been struck down with Altarian Encephalitis, erasing his long-term memory for the short time he had been under it's effects. That could be coincidence, he knew, but why was his unconscious mind connecting her face with this mystery woman?

An idea struck him. 'Computer, what is the last log entry I recorded before stardate 50991?'

'There is a Captain's log entry for stardate 50989.2, and two personal log entries for stardates 50990.3 and 50990.9 respectively.'

'Let's hear the Captain's log entry first,' said Picard.

Picard's own voice spoke to him from the past via the speakers. 'Captain's Log: Stardate 50989.2 – We are en route to _Deep Space Nine_ following completion of repairs to the _Enterprise, _where we intend to drop Mr Worf off beforeresuming our patrol of the Neutral Zone. Astrometrics has requested that we perform some tests and scans of the Bajoran wormhole.'

Picard nodded to himself. No help there. 'Put the earlier personal log entry on, computer.'

'Captain's Personal Log,' said his voice again. 'Stardate 50990.3 – The _Enterprise_ is currently docked at _Deep Space Nine_. We have said our farewells to Mr Worf and I am looking forward to the boring routine of patrolling the Neutral Zone in anticipation of an attack that will never come. The crew, as well as myself, has been tried hard by the Borg over the course of the last few days. Maybe this mission will serve as R & R for our shattered nerves.'

Picard stared at the screen for a moment. 'Log for stardate 50990.9 please, computer.'

'Captain's Personal Log,' said a voice and Picard stared for a moment at the screen, watching as the words were printed on the screen before him as they were read out over the speakers. 'Stardate 50990.9 – Since leaving _DS9_, I have begun to feel ill. I intend to speak with Doctor Crusher about my infirmity.'

Picard sat upright, surprised. That had not sounded right at all. He was not in the habit of recording log entries simply because he felt ill at the time. Plus....

The captain looked at the words for the short entry. 'Computer, are there any log entries between stardate 50991 and 51000?'

'There are no log entries for the dates specified.' Picard smiled slightly.

'Computer, authorisation Picard 8-5-gamma-omicron. Are there any log entries in my private file for the earlier specified stardates?'

'Five recorded logs – two Captain's log entries and three personal log entries,' replied the computer.

'Let's hear them,' said Picard.

'Those logs are classified at security level seventeen,' countered the computer. Picard stared at the screen, worried.

'Who could classify my own logs against me?' he wondered aloud, and the computer gave an answer.

'Admiral Drayton, C-in-C, Starfleet.'

Picard glanced up, involuntarily, at the ceiling. 'Admiral Drayton?' he asked himself. 'Why?'

'That data is unknown,' said the computer stupidly, and Picard frowned at the screen annoyedly.

'Well,' he said to himself, 'I need someone who knows.'

Data's doorknocker bleeped and the android looked up from his desk. 'Come in.'

The doors slid open and Picard stepped into the room. 'Data, can I have a word?'

Data looked at his captain in surprise. It was a rarity for the captain of a starship to come to your quarters and ask for a "word" at any time, and even more so when the captain did not alert you beforehand. 'By all means,' said the android.

Picard looked slightly uncomfortable, Data noted. 'Data, do you know how to extract deleted and classified information from the computer?'

'Deleted information, yes,' said Data immediately. 'Classified is different. What level of classification?'

'Starfleet level seventeen,' said Picard and Data gave him a puzzled look.

'I thought –'

'That there are only sixteen levels of classification in Starfleet: I know,' interrupted Picard. 'So did I. At the moment, my personal log back-ups that I record in case the main computer is wiped for whatever reason are being locked out by a classification level seventeen order from Admiral Drayton.'

Data stared at his captain for a moment. 'Sir, why do you want the logs?' he asked finally.

Picard looked increasingly uncomfortable. 'They appear to have been recorded after I contracted the encephalitis,' he said.

Data tried not let his horror show through, as he looked at Picard for a moment. 'Captain,' he said slowly, 'I can access the logs you need, but I will require much time in which to do it.'

'Very well,' said Picard, who looked relieved that the android had not asked further. 'How long?'

'I will notify you when I have completed my task,' said Data carefully.

Picard nodded. 'Thank you, Mr Data,' he said. He turned, and left.

Immediately, Data hit his commbadge. 'Data to Counsellor Troi.'

'Troi here.'

'Counsellor, the captain just asked me to break into the classification around his personal log records,' said Data without preamble.

'Damn!' said Troi angrily. 'I knew he wouldn't leave it!'

'What should I do, Counsellor?' asked Data plaintively.

'How long did you say you'd need?'

'I said that I would notify him when I completed my task.'

'Okay,' said Troi, her voice thoughtful. 'I'll arrange to meet you in your quarters when I come off duty.'

'Very well,' said Data, relieved that the matter had been taken from his hands.

To Data's surprise, when the door opened and admitted Counsellor Troi, it also admitted Riker, Hedly and Geordi. Immediately, Troi said, 'We all needed to meet, Data.'

The android nodded calmly. 'I am not upset, Counsellor,' he said. 'Merely curious.'

Troi turned to face the others. 'The captain's been trying to access his personal logs that we couldn't delete.'

The look of consternation that crossed Riker's face was it's own story. 'I thought Admiral Drayton was able to lock them out.'

Troi nodded. 'Fortunately, he hasn't managed to access them yet. He's asked Data to find a way past the classification.'

'With time,' said Data, 'I would be able to do it. The captain knows that.'

Hedly nodded. 'What are we going to do? We can't just admit the entire thing to the captain.'

'That is not an option,' agreed Troi. 'Any ideas?'

'What's brought it on?' asked Geordi.

'I'm not sure,' said Troi, 'but I think it has a lot to do with what happened at the Briar Patch. His unconscious mind may be reacting badly to the prospect of another relationship after what happened. We never found out exactly what happened to the captain when he was healed,' she added.

'The person impersonating Ambassador Spock may have planned this to happen,' said Riker. 'We don't know who it was or why they did it.'

'Is there any way of deleting his back-up logs?' asked Troi.

Everybody looked at Data. 'Theoretically, yes,' said the android eventually. 'But Captain Picard would know immediately. I believe that doing so would endanger him even further.'

'We need to head him off at the pass,' said Riker. 'I think –'

'Bridge to Commander Riker,' said Truper's voice.

'Go ahead,' said Riker, tapping his commbadge.

'Commander, we're receiving a transmission to you from Admiral Drayton at Starfleet Command.'

'Put it through to Commander Data's quarters, Lieutenant,' said Riker.

He stepped around to the desk and activated the viewer. Drayton's dark face appeared on the screen before him. 'Admiral,' greeted Riker.

'Commander,' said Drayton, 'I received your call regarding Captain Picard's strange behaviour.'

'Sir,' said Riker, 'he's been trying to access the personal logs from the back-up memory. The ones we couldn't delete.'

Drayton nodded, looking irritated. 'Very well, Commander. Have you any suggestions?'

Riker glanced up at the rest of the group, but they all looked blank. With a sigh, he turned back to the C-in-C. 'We've discussed the situation, sir, and I can't see any way out except for Operation Wipeout.'

'Are you sure?' asked Drayton.

'Certain, sir.' Riker's voice was firm with no trace of the foreboding that lurked within.

Drayton nodded, and pressed a few buttons before him off-screen. 'I'll have Commander Quinteros meet you at Starbase 445. I'll inform Captain Picard of the change in route. I'll not mention this conversation, obviously. You and the senior staff play it dumb.'

'Understood,' said Riker. 'Anything else?'

Drayton nodded. 'I was going to inform you later anyway, but there have been some unusual ship movements along the Romulan border lately.'

'Is that a worry?' asked Riker. 'They are our allies, strange as it may seem.'

'Whenever the Romulans shift ships to the Neutral Zone border, it is a concern of Starfleet,' said Drayton reprovingly. 'Whether they are our allies or not.'

Riker nodded, appropriately chastised. 'Understood.'

'It is probably nothing to be concerned about,' said Drayton. 'Just trying to keep up appearances. They lost a lot of ships in the war.'

'So did we,' said Riker.

Drayton smiled slightly. 'That's why we're being extra cautious. Anyway, I'll call Captain Picard later. Drayton out.'

Riker glanced at the others after the Admiral's face disappeared. Hedly wore a puzzled frown. 'Sir, what's Operation Wipeout?'

'We're going to have the _Enterprise's_ computer completely wiped, Commander,' said Riker. Hedly's face paled.

'Everything?'

Riker nodded affirmatively. 'It's the ultimate step. Admiral Drayton and I worked it out with Commander Quinteros after the... incident. We couldn't get at the captain's personal back-ups, so Admiral Drayton locked them out with a top-level authorisation code. However, now that we know that it is possible to get at them, we're going to wipe the _Enterprise's_ computer core.'

Geordi's eyes widened in stunned disbelief. 'Sir, that'll put us out of action for _eight weeks!_'

Riker gave him a stony stare. 'For the captain?'

Geordi could not hold Riker's stare in the face of that argument. He smiled faintly, tightly. 'I'd better let my engineering crews know, so that they can start counselling sessions early.'

Riker glanced around at the others for a moment, not able to bring himself to join La Forge's forced jollity. 'We all said, two years ago, that we'd do anything to keep the captain from finding out the truth. It looks like we are about to be tested on that statement. I just want you to know that whatever happens, I trust all of you implicitly.'

He looked again at their faces, but failed to find what he was looking for. For once, the senior crew of the _Enterprise_ was split and fractured. Unity, what Riker now sought above all else, was not there for him.

He waited for a moment, hoping that that might change, and then he nodded. 'Dismissed.'

Picard stepped out of his ready room, and nodded to Data, who now sat in the centre seat. 'The bridge is yours, Commander,' he said.

'Thank you, sir,' said Data.

Picard turned to Lieutenant Truper. 'Lieutenant, I want you to lay in a course for Starbase 445 and engage at warp seven.'

Truper nodded, not showing any emotion. As the young man laid in the course, Data glanced at Picard, his face calm. 'Any reason, sir?'

Picard nodded. 'Admiral Drayton has informed me that there is a chance that the _Enterprise's_ computers have been infected by a worm virus. If so, we will have to have a full wipe of the core.'

Data nodded. 'That is the appropriate course for a worm virus.'

Picard nodded back, but his eyes were distant. 'Have you made any progress on the issue I discussed with you, Mr Data?' he asked.

Data shook his head immediately. 'As yet, I have not, Captain. However, as soon as I do, I will inform you.'

'Thank you.' With that, Picard turned and left the bridge. Data looked at Truper, who had turned to face the android.

'Course plotted and laid in,' said the helmsman. Data nodded.

'Engage.'

The _Enterprise_ swung around majestically, gathered herself, and then jumped into warp speed.


	2. Beneath The Surface

__

Chapter II

The Romulan Warbirds _G'gerithau _and _T'Partel _swung into slow orbit of Kiros.

Commander Ratek, onboard the _G'gerithau_, stared at the scanner reports that the probing, questing beams of the two cloaked Warbirds sent into the ground of Kiros. 'Nothing,' he finally said with disgust.

'The log recorder we picked up on the outskirts of the system stated definitely that there was something below the surface of the desert on the second continent,' insisted his first officer, a young woman by the name of Relesi. 'It was too specific for inaccuracies.'

Ratek nodded slowly, but turned his attention to the helmsman. 'Is there any spaceborne debris from the _Talkaris_?'

'No, sir,' replied the helmsman. 'There is nothing that indicates a science ship was even here.'

Ratek turned his gaze back onto Relesi, seeing the burning glimmer of frustration in her eyes. 'We cannot do anything more if there is no evidence that the _Talkaris_ was destroyed by an outside force. As far as the High Command is concerned, it was an accident.'

'What about the log recorder?' asked Relesi, her voice taut with strain.

Ratek shook his head. 'Even with that, it is not supported by our results. I'm afraid, whatever we may believe, the High Command will write the _Talkaris_ off as a victim of a warp core malfunction. I'm sorry, Relesi.'

Relesi nodded despondently at Ratek's summary of what would happen. 'It's just not right that she should die like that.'

Ratek stood slowly and moved closer to his first officer. 'Serisa was an excellent officer and scientist, Relesi. She would have died with honour.'

Relesi looked up at him, tears in her eyes. 'But I can't allow my sister's mysterious death to go unsolved. I'm sorry, sir, but I'll be carrying on an investigation on my own.'

Ratek nodded. He had long ago learnt to allow his first officer leeway in matters like this. And Serisa deserved more than a cold note logged onto her service record. 'Very well, Relesi. We will remain in orbit for another thirty hours.'

Relesi looked at him for a moment, gratitude burning in her blue eyes. 'Thank you, Commander.'

'Sir!' The communications officer had turned to face Ratek, worry on his face. 'I have Subcommander T'Poln on hold. She wishes to speak with you.'

Ratek nodded, and took his place in the centre seat as T'Poln's face appeared on the screen. He nodded curtly. 'Subcommander.'

'Sir, we've detected some strange energy readings from Kiros' surface,' said T'Poln. 'They appear to be unusually powerful.'

'Transmit your readings to our science officer, Subcommander,' ordered Ratek. 'We'll have a look at them.'

T'Poln nodded, and gave an order to someone off-screen. The science officer turned and nodded to Ratek to signify that he had received them. 'Thank you, Subcommander,' said Ratek. T'Poln's face vanished from the screen.

Ratek stood and moved to the science officer's position, followed by Relesi. The _G'gerithau_, as opposed to its sister ship, had dedicated scanners for exploration missions, modelled on the starships of Starfleet. The Romulan High Command had commissioned a new class of _D'deridex_ Warbirds to undertake these missions of science, of which the _G'gerithau_ was the third to be launched. The _T'Partel_ was one of the older Warbirds, designed when the Romulans felt more under threat from the Federation or the Klingons. Now, though, it was realised that the Federation might be more useful as an ally, especially after the successful conclusion of the war against the Dominion and the Breen. And, Ratek knew, Romulan strategic plans now placed the Breen as the most dangerous enemy of the Empire.

He glanced expectantly at the science officer, a young man called Maltek, who responded as expected. 'Sir, these readings are of a power that goes off the scale. We've never recorded anything like it.'

'Could it be produced by the Kirosians themselves?' asked Relesi.

Maltek shook his head immediately. 'Absolutely not, Subcommander. Even we do not have the capability to produce energy of this magnitude.'

Ratek nodded tiredly. It had been a long, tense voyage from Romulus, all of the way on yellow alert. 'Can you tell me what might be producing it?'

'There have been instances of energy on this scale being produced, sir,' said Maltek, his voice settling into a scholarly tone. 'All known instances have involved either extra-galactic lifeforms or unbelievably advanced technology. You will recall, I assume, the events surrounding the strange machine entity that crossed Klingon space and attacked Earth last century. That was reported as using twelfth power –'

Ratek cut his science officer off. The young man was gifted and brilliant, but he sometimes would go into personal lectures that could go on for hours. 'What are you saying?'

Maltek did not look offended at his commander's interruption. 'Basically that the only likely explanation for this power source is that we are confronting something that is advanced beyond our level.'

Ratek stared for a moment at the screen. 'Can you analyse the surge in any way?'

'It is too large for the sensors to correctly focus on,' said Relesi immediately. 'We can't –'

'Communication from the _T'Partel_, sir,' interrupted an officer, turning to face Ratek and Relesi. 'Subcommander T'Poln says it's urgent.'

Ratek nodded, moved forward to his command chair and stared at the screen as T'Poln's angular face appeared again. Her dark eyes were troubled, he could see. 'Commander, we're picking up the energy surge again. Its gaining in strength.'

Ratek glanced quickly at Maltek, who nodded once, silently. Ratek nodded and turned his attention to the screen again. 'Subcommander, we're going to take over the observation of the power surge. I want the _T'Partel_ to drop to a lower orbit and run interference should it prove to be a danger to either ship.'

'Yes, Commander,' answered T'Poln. Her face vanished.

Above the dark orb of Kiros, although it could not be seen to eyes or sensors not attuned to the peculiar frequency used by the Romulan cloaking devices, the second of the Warbirds moved away from the leader. Banking slightly, it moved closer to the atmosphere and levelled off again.

To the sensor images received by the _G'gerithau_, it almost looked to Ratek that the _T'Partel_ had become more... alert and ready for action. Only an illusion, produced somewhat by the raptor prow of the Warbird, but...

It was effective.

With a faint sigh, Ratek glanced at the science officer. 'Alert me when we approach the location of the energy source.'

Maltek nodded, and Ratek turned to Relesi. 'I leave the bridge in your hands, Subcommander. I am retiring to my quarters, but alert me if anything else happens.'

Relesi nodded, hiding her worry under a veneer of calm capability. Although that was her normal demeanour, Ratek could sense the troubled, roiling emotions below the surface of his first officer's placidity. With a last glance at Relesi, he left the bridge.

A face appeared on the monitor before him, and the man smiled slightly. 'It's good to see you again, Joe.'

Former Admiral Joseph Kelner smiled back at the other. 'And you too, Captain.'

Picard's smile widened slightly, but Kelner could not help but notice a sign of nervous strain running across his face. 'Are you okay, Jean-Luc?'

'Yes, I'm fine,' replied Picard, forcing the expression from his face and somehow making a smile appear on his lips. 'Joe, it's time.'

Kelner nodded, but he was unhappy with his situation. 'You've placed me in a very awkward position, Jean-Luc,' he said. 'My contacts at Starfleet are scouring the archives, but it's difficult. Admiral Drayton ordered a purge of the archives – '

'I know this, Joseph,' replied Picard gently. 'That's why I'm trying to recover as much information as I can. It would prove my theory and allow me to operate more freely. At the moment, without more information than I have now, I am still working in the dark. If I am right –'

'I know, Jean-Luc,' said Kelner sadly. He nodded reluctantly. 'I'll do as you ask. If and when I recover the information, I'll contact you directly.'

Picard nodded once. 'Thank you, Joseph.'

Kelner gave him an enigmatically despairing look. 'You might not say that soon.' But, before Picard could ask him what he meant, the link cut out.

Picard leant back in his seat, trying to make sense of Kelner's last, enigmatic comment. But before he could dedicate any real time and thought to the matter, the door bleeped and he glanced up. `Come in.'

Troi stepped through as the door slid aside. `Captain, I was going to my quarters when I thought I might pop in.'

Picard smiled and stood, knowing full well that his Counsellor did not just "pop in". `By all means, Deanna,' he said, letting her know that this conversation was off the record. `Would you like a drink?'

`Thank you; hot chocolate,' she replied.

Picard made himself an Earl Grey, passed Troi her drink, and sat down opposite her, facing the stars streaking past the window of his quarters. `What would you like to talk about, Counsellor?'

`I believe that you already know,' replied Troi. `I thought it might be best if we tried to broach the subject informally, rather than at a full-blown official counselling session.'

Picard nodded, his face placid. `Thank you for your consideration. I appreciate it.'

`Do you know why this has suddenly sprung up, Captain?' she began.

Picard shrugged. `My only thought thus far has been that it might be something to do with the changes that we experienced on the planet of the Ba'ku.'

`Your… relationship with Anij?'

`That, and other things,' said Picard. He turned slightly and gazed out at the stars. `Much of my life has been spent on the move, Counsellor. I had moved quite restlessly for a number of years before I came into Starfleet, and my biggest gain with Starfleet was the opportunity to keep moving, but to do something worthwhile for the Federation while doing so.'

`The moving was to be able to escape something?'

Picard frowned. `That is a good question, but I don't believe that that is or was the case. I was simply a restless person.'

`Do you feel that's changed?'

Picard paused for a moment, and turned his gaze inward for a moment, before looking straight at Troi with his most piercing look, one that she had seen turned on hundreds of people in the time she had known him. `Yes, I do indeed.'

`Why?'

`Anij showed me something that I had never before seen, encountered or truly understood. Peace.'

Troi frowned. `Peace? As in no war?'

Picard shook his head, smiling. `No, as in utter tranquillity. They have the most amazing ability to slow down time, Counsellor,' he continued.

`Slow down time?' Troi looked slightly shocked.

Picard smiled again. `I'm sorry. I think it might be more accurate to say that they can slow down your _perception_ of time. Anij showed me a perfect moment, and I can still see that with such perfect clarity that it makes all of the rest of my life pale into insignificance.'

He paused for another moment, and took a sip of his tea. `When we were there, after the Son'a were stopped, I had never felt before as if I just wanted to stop right there and then. It was quite difficult to put these back on again.' He fingered the four pips on his collar. `And when I did, I can remember feeling the weight of the responsibility settling back onto my shoulders like it had never done before. And it was the first time that I had felt it as a burden, rather than as a privilege.'

He turned and looked at the stars again, sipping his tea. `Maybe it is time to finish all of this. I am getting no younger, Counsellor, and maybe it is time for rest.'

Troi narrowed her eyes at Picard, aware that he had been in a retiring mood before and that the two events were possibly connected. `Do you intend to retire?'

Picard shrugged. `I don't know. Maybe I have been keeping Will back from his rightful place in command. But I don't feel that that time is quite right yet. When things have settled down a little more now that the war's ended, but not quite yet.'

Troi smiled and finished her hot chocolate. `At least we have a starting point to go from,' she said. `I'll go and record this in my case log, and I'll arrange an official appointment.'

Picard nodded at her, and said, `Thank you for your time, Counsellor.'

Counsellor's Log: Stardate 55123.9 - After speaking with Captain Picard, I am convinced that his relationship with Anij has caused his subconscious mind to go back to the events surrounding Lieutenant Thames. It may be guilt, or it may be simply a feeling that he has resurrected his happiness again. Either way, this is a dangerous development, and I do not wish to see it going any further than this, and I hope to be able to cause him to forget.

Joseph Kelner sat in his small study in his house in Texas, pondering the situation for a moment. In the still night air of the desert, he could hear birds calling, vultures circling, he thought.

For a moment, Kelner listened to their shrill cries, trying to decide what to do. He cast his mind back almost a month, to when Jean-Luc Picard had called him out of the blue, the first time that the other had called him since….

He had been surprised by the strain on the older man's face, stunned by the intense pain that lay buried behind the steel façade, a pain that had only intensified since then. He had seen it blazing in the other's eyes during their short conversation, despite the fake smile.

The first conversation they had was a surprise to Kelner. Far from being the controlled and calm man that Kelner had once known and had been proud to call a friend, Jean-Luc Picard was now an angry and barely restrained ball of fury. He had turned those pain-filled eyes onto Kelner, and the former admiral had recoiled from their glare of bitterness and loss.

Picard had said a few things to him, a few pleasantries that would not attract attention under normal circumstances. But Kelner had read far more beneath the troubled expression, and had tried to enquire as to Picard's concern.

A futile attempt with someone as close-mouthed as Picard could be, he should have known. All of his most delicate and careful probes had been rebuffed with such a brutal speed and such a casual efficiency that Kelner had been still in the dark about Picard's worries even a full month of almost constant subspace communications later.

The actual request (no, call it an order) that Picard had made was simple enough. Although why he should even have to make such a request was a surprise to the former admiral – any captain of a starship has full access to all computer records on his ship at any time. No-one was able to lock a starship commander out of his own vessel except the Admiralty.

And that was what was bothering Kelner – not the request or the strain on Picard's face – starship captains, even ones as experienced as Picard, all went through prolonged stress periods. That was what made them such great officers – the ability to shake that stress off and carry on.

No, what bothered Kelner was the nature of the request. Computer records relating to part of that period had been purged from Starfleet records on the orders of the C-in-C, as Kelner well knew, and Picard, for obvious reasons, did not.

But there was one record that Picard knew about that the rest of Starfleet did not – he had not told the Admiralty of it, and he had put it away on a dusty back shelf – metaphorically speaking – of Starfleet archives, sealed up as per standing orders regarding such sensitive information.

It had not been found in the purge, and Picard himself had only found reference to it in one of his intensive searches of his personal files from the time, files that had either been deemed not harmful or not been found. He had passed that information onto Kelner, knowing that the other man would find it soon.

It was true what Starfleet tacticians said, mused Kelner. There was no such thing as a foolproof operation.

Kelner had found the record after one day's searching, nearly two weeks ago. In the intervening time, he had sat on it as Picard had contacted him regularly to learn any new information. He knew what that log contained, knew what it said now. The story that Kelner had been told by Picard two years before was true.

The low voice of the starship captain spoke to him as he listened to it, horror tingeing every word. 'Even the Borg are not as dangerous as those creatures – they would wipe us out without even acknowledging our existence, but the Borg at least would do us the honour of considering us important enough to assimilate.

'I can still see the fires burning across a thousand worlds, the light of the stars eclipsed by the darkness of their giant black ships. They hunt us down slowly and methodically for crimes that were committed in another universe against them, by another group of humans: but, to the Aralla, we are all the same group of humans.'

Kelner had heard these words spoken before, but when he had first heard this prophecy of fire, he had been sceptical and unconvinced, even if it was Jean-Luc Picard telling him these things.

But to hear this voice speaking, only a few short minutes after the event, he could finally see what Picard had meant, what those creatures had done to him and what he felt in return could only be expected.

He had debated long and hard in his own mind as to what his next action would entail, what he might spark off.

But, speaking to Picard this last time, he had realised that anything that he might do to Picard could be no worse than what Picard was doing to himself.

It was only an hour of troubled rest that separated Ratek's arrival in his quarters from the call from the bridge. 'Sir!'

Even as he awoke to the panicked note in Relesi's voice, noting almost automatically the lack of protocol from his first officer, he realised that the yellow alert lights were flashing. He hit the communicator on the wall. 'This is Ratek.'

'Sir, we're experiencing a severe power surge from the unknown source!' Relesi's voice was almost trembling in her anxiety. 'We're immediately overhead now –'

Ratek cut her off, determined to find out what was upsetting his friend. 'I'm on my way up now, Subcommander.' He injected calm authority into his voice, trying to quell Relesi's nervousness. There was a limit to how far he would allow her emotional troubles to affect her on-the-job performance. 'Stand by until I get there.'

The nervousness was under slightly better control when Relesi spoke again. 'Understood, Commander.'

Ratek strode onto the bridge, his face controlled as Relesi turned to face him, her own expression flitting between panic, worry and forced calm. Ratek suppressed a sigh, and nodded to her. 'Report.'

She took a quick gulp of air, and said, 'Commander, we're just approaching the area above the power source. We're currently recording a massive surge in its power curve, indicating that something's happening down there.'

Ratek nodded, turning to face Maltek as he did so. 'Your analysis, science officer?'

Maltek did not turn, but remained fixated on the screen before him. 'The power output has more than doubled in the last hour, sir, but in the last five minutes, I've noticed a steep curve upwards. We have some low-resolution scans of the area, but nothing that points to an object on the surface. I suspect a form of underground power generator.'

'Nothing that the Kirosians could have built?'

Maltek shook his head. 'As I said before, sir, nothing that _we_ could have built.'

Ratek nodded absently. 'Continue scanning and –'

'Sir!' Maltek suddenly turned, his face animated. 'We're reading tectonic disturbance on the surface of Kiros! Something's happening down there –'

Once again, in the centre of the disturbance, the sand shifted.

As before, it was ruthlessly pushed aside by artificial forces almost beyond comprehension. Blackness emerged from below it, stretching to all sides like a vast plateau emerging from the midst of a geological upheaval.

'Sir, we have scanners trained on the area!' Maltek turned to the main screen as the images appeared.

Ratek, who had taken his seat at the centre of the bridge, slowly rose to his feet again, staring almost dully at the screen. Relesi, behind him, put her hand to her mouth unconsciously as her eyes widened.

On the screen, from below the pale sands of Kiros, a vast circle of darkness was pushing the natural land aside as it clawed its way towards the skies of the planet.

Sand drained from its flanks to the ground as it elevated itself into the blue. Above, it was flattened, with long angular shapes adorning its surface, all running inwards towards a central circle. Below, a dome of black metal gave it a bowl-like appearance.

A moment later, however, as it drew further from the sands that had held it prisoner, it began to rotate lengthways, swinging itself around in a huge arc that brought the dome to the top. Slowly, it continued its climb.

Ratek could not bring his mind to terms with what they were seeing. 'Maltek, give me a report,' he managed, forcing the words from his lips, trying to animate his mind from stunned petrifaction.

Maltek somehow forced his eyes from the screen, turning to his console as if to seek refuge. But what he read in a dulled monotone of a voice to the stunned bridge crew was even more horrifying in its simple statistical fact. 'The ship is approximately fifteen miles in diameter, with a mass of 400 billion tons. It is constructed of a material the computer cannot identify. It is certainly the source of the power we detected.'

'Is it possible that they – whoever they are – are responsible for the _Talkaris'_ disappearance?' Relesi's voice was hushed to the point of unintelligibility.

Maltek nodded silently, although no answer was required. 'Certainly, that is a distinct possibility.'

The huge black ship had finished its rotatory arc and was now angling towards the cloaked Warbirds.

__

Cloaked.... Ratek's eyes widened in shock. 'Engage engines!' he shouted at the helmsman. 'Order the _T'Partel_ to do the same!'

But it was too late. As the _G'gerithau_ pulled up and away, the _T'Partel_, realising the danger too late, pulled to one side, but the flank of the giant ship sliced through its supporting struts on the starboard wing.

Flame billowed from the Warbird, illuminating its cloaked form for all to see. As it shuddered and sheered away from the huge ship, long tongues of fire licked out into space and towards the huge vessel which had rammed the Romulan ship. The flame brushed against something between the vast hull, however, and a green field of energy flashed into being, protecting the black from the flame.

But Ratek had no eyes for this, as Relesi suddenly declared, 'Commander, there are a series of tiny marks approaching the _T'Partel!_'

'How many?'

'Eighty.'

A cloud of tiny objects rounded the edge of the rising ship as it pulled past the two Warbirds, and swarmed – there was no other way to describe how the cloud leapt at the damaged _T'Partel_ as if every element had one single mind. Within moment, the cloud had surrounded the Romulan ship.

Ratek never had time to give the instinctive order to decloak and help the stricken _T'Partel. _Blue pulses of energy flashed from the cloud, myriad balls of light slamming into the _T'Partel_. As the Warbird reeled from the assault, new explosions bursting along its flanks and giving away its distress like the bleats of a wounded sheep as it was attacked by a pack of wolves, the cloud of insect-like attackers closed in, scenting blood.

Within moments, the Warbird was reduced to a crippled mass of blackened metal, its engines dead and power systems smashed beyond repair. As the horrified watchers on the _G'gerithau_ looked on helplessly, the cloud fired a last series of shots into the hulk. The Warbird, rather than die the glorious death of cleansing flame that was so important to the Romulan warrior psyche, collapsed in a shower of shattered metal and oxygen pockets, spilling frozen air into the void along with its broken interior and the bodies of many Romulan warriors. In a few moments, silently and horribly, the _T'Partel_ had vanished into a cloud of vaporised duritanium.

The startled crew of the _G'gerithau_ were stunned into silence by the sheer speed and ferocity of an attack which had reduced a Romulan Warbird, the pride of the Empire's fleet, to debris in seconds. As the cloud of small fighter vessels moved back towards their mother ship, Ratek felt a surge of anger and hatred pass through him, one that he knew would be burning in the hearts of all aboard. But he was an experienced enough commander to know when to retreat.

'Set course for Romulus,' he forced out, his tone thick with hatred. Relesi turned to him, her own eyes blazing, her sister forgotten for the moment.

'Sir, will we not avenge the _T'Partel_?'

'No,' said Ratek quietly, his voice coming under control as he turned wearily for his command chair. 'We must warn the High Command about this threat. All we can do now for the _T'Partel_ is return and destroy this ship when we can. Set the course, helmsman.'

The young man at helm nodded unhappily and turned to stab a few buttons viciously with his finger. 'Course plotted, sir,' he said, voice bitter.

Ratek nodded and took another look at the vast blackness that clouded the stars. He knew not what inspired the dark surge of prophecy that welled up from within him, but he was certain that he knew, somewhere in the depths of his being, what that vast darkness that blocked the shining of the stars symbolised, not only for the Romulan people, but for the entire galaxy. Ratek shuddered slightly as cold fear, a feeling that he rarely acknowledged, swept over him, drowning the anger.

Death.

Fire.

Extinction.

Those three, twined together in the heart of the darkness, had destroyed the _Talkaris_, and the _T'Partel_.

And they were coming.

Silently, leaving no trace of its presence, the _G'gerithau_ turned and fled from the death that loomed above it and vanished into warp speed.

Dispassionately, those inside the huge ship watched as the tiny green vessel turned and fled to safety, abandoning its partner to its fate. The attack fighters were re-entering the hangars and the mission was once again underway. No contact had been received. Mission priorities would have to be changed.

Cold eyes and minds were turned to the small planet below the ship, but it was discussed and decided upon in a few short moments. Its sentence was already passed. It would the first.

The black ship paused over Kiros, casting a small eclipse of its very own over one of the cities.

Below, far below, people stood to watch the strange events in the sky. Silence spread, appropriately, like a pall over the city.

Then, a small green light appeared in the centre of the black shape. Under normal circumstances, it would have been impossible to pick out, but in the centre of that black circle, it could be seen easily. Slowly, it grew in size, until the pearly beauty was clear for miles around.

And slowly, like the finger of a god, it reached down and touched the city. Gently, almost lovingly, it caressed the surface of the planet. At its touch, buildings swayed gently, casually, so that people looked towards them in surprise at the light's physical impact.

Looked away from the darkness that surrounded the light.

Didn't see the white ball of light that pulverised the city in a brief second.

To all those who were stood outside the city, it was as though a huge ball of fire had suddenly materialised in the place of the buildings which had stood so solidly. Within a second, it had boiled outwards, consuming in a torrent of death all that stood in its way. Tides of people turned and fled, screaming in terror, from the towering holocaust that blazed towards them.

In space, as the black pylons folded themselves over the firing circle, the eyes watched as their new weapon devastated the planet. Formed in a single beam of energy, their fire was sweeping now over the planet, unstoppable until it met itself on the far side of that globe. Within an hour, the planet would be a single charred, blackened mass in space, burnt beyond recognition and barren of any life.

There was a new agenda for them. A new directive.

But they would march onwards, like before, and sweep all before them.

There would be no stopping them this time.

Slowly, like the behemoth it was, the black disc turned from the carnage it had wrought, and aimed for space.

He turned, brought the blade of the Klingon bat'leth up to clash in a loud ringing sound that echoed through the dark cavern with the edge of a mek'leth wielded by a tall, dark Klingon warrior. With a grunt, he forced the taller man back, and brought his weapon around to chop at his opponent's legs.

The mek'leth blocked the swipe, came around to go for the other's neck, and the bat'leth fended it away with an almost casual ease that belied its wielder's actual lack of skill.

Swinging quickly through a 360 degree arc, the bat'leth first crashed through the blade of the mek'leth, clattering it to the sandy floor before the bat'leth sank deep into the flesh of the Klingon warrior's sternum.

Pulling it free, he watched as the warrior fell backwards and vanished in a holographic shimmer. Stood for a moment in the finishing pose of the move he had just completed, he heard a hiss behind him.

He turned –

Fire spread from the floor to encompass the walls and the ceiling, washing over the entire cavern around him. The air grew hot with the smell of melting rock as he staggered backwards from the heat, terror and confusion mixing and washing over him like a flood. His tearing eyes registered a presence before him, and abruptly, the fire was forgotten.

A creature strode from the midst of the pyre, taller than he by a full metre. Tentacles whipped around it, only seeming under partial control by the mind that inhabited that body of greying flesh. Below that facade of decay, he could sense the analysing mind, controlled by a group consciousness that could plot the extermination of an entire race with the cold dispassion that might be applied to the analysis of a lunch menu.

He rose, black fury flooding through him at the interloper's presence in his reality. It had ripped his life from him, destroyed the life he had known and taken his –

He roared in hatred, lifting the bat'leth high to cleave this murderer's head from its recessed shoulders –

And felt an arm club him in the stomach, knocking the breath from him and sending him to his knees. He dropped the bat'leth in stunned surprise.

Jean-Luc Picard looked up, gasping, to see Counsellor Troi's horrified face looking down at him. It was as if he had awoken from a trance. He looked up, and saw that the creature had vanished and fire no longer scorched the walls.

Belatedly, he realised that the hiss he had heard had been the holosuite's doors opening. He glanced at the bat'leth, lying forgotten on the ground and then looked ashamedly at Troi, realising what he had been about to do. The fury and bitter rage....

She knelt by his side, looking into his eyes with what looked to him to be almost despairing concern. 'Captain, are you all right?'

Picard shook his head mutely, staring almost feverishly at the door. 'I saw it – there, standing there....'

Troi stared at Picard for another moment, knowing that there was nothing towards which his eyes stared so wildly except the cold walls of the holographic cavern.

'There was fire burning in the cavern,' said Picard as he lay on the bio-bed in Starbase 445, speaking to Troi and Crusher. 'And a creature, standing there, just watching me.'

'That must have been when I came in,' said Troi. 'You rushed towards me with the bat'leth up, and I just reacted. Sorry, sir,' she added.

Picard waved her apology away. 'I should be the one apologising, Counsellor. I tried to kill you –'

'No,' Troi cut him off. 'You attempted to destroy the hallucination. That's quite different.'

Picard nodded ruefully, not arguing. He tried to sit up, but found Beverly pressing him back onto the bio-bed gently but with irresistible pressure. 'You,' she said, 'are not going anywhere. You will remain under observation for twenty-four hours.' As Picard began to protest, Beverly interrupted him. 'It's either a voluntary action, or I tie you down.'

Picard saw the dangerous gleam in her eye, and acquiesced. As he leant back, Crusher pressed a hypo against his neck, telling him, 'It's a sedative, to help you sleep.'

Picard's eyes fluttered closed, and his breathing evened out as he sank from consciousness.

Crusher turned worried eyes onto Troi. 'What did you pick up from him when he attacked you?'

Troi kept her gaze on Picard. 'Hatred, fear and desperate pain. I've very rarely felt the like. It's as though he's tearing up inside, and I only have a faint idea what's causing it.'

Crusher frowned. 'I thought you said –'

'I mean that I don't know what exactly the problem is. We know it's a breakdown of the barriers that were erected in his mind, but I'm not sure exactly what the images and the feelings are that he's experiencing. His mind is so mixed and confused, I'm not sure what's really going on in there. But there's one thing I'm certain of.'

'What's that?'

Troi turned a despairing gaze onto Crusher. 'I can't do anything for him.'

Starbase 445 was a large planetary base, and it nestled in a deep valley near a tall range of mountains on the largest continent of the planet. Tall towers mingled with the lower shapes of smaller office buildings, and the bright morning air rang with the sounds of transporter beams and busy streets full of people.

But alone among that bustling throng, Riker strode from the transporter centre at the heart of the city to a meeting inside Admiral Delnar's office in the tallest tower of the group.

Riker's uniform and rank drew little comment from those around him, but his face was famous from numerous holofilms and newscasts after the exploits of he and the _Enterprise_ crew. That recognition was what obtained the surprised comments and glances of those who had the chance, however momentary and fleeting it was, to be associated with the fame of their visitor.

Not for nothing, Riker thought glumly, was it said that officers of the starship _Enterprise_ were never more alone than when they were in a crowd.

Slowly, he approached the tall spire of the main Starfleet headquarters, almost apprehensive in his mood. Admiral Delnar's summons to the top-level meeting had been almost peremptory – it was unheard of for a Commander in Starfleet to be summoned in his captain's place to such a gathering.

Pressing the call button, he waited for the turbolift to arrive, and when it did, he had to wait as two other officers stepped from the lift past him. When he stepped in, he said, 'Admiral Delnar's office.'

Quickly, far too quickly for Riker's mood, the lift deposited him on the top floor of the building, where the doors opened to show him a short corridor leading to a single door. Approaching slowly, he stepped up to the door knocker and pressed the button. A moment later, he heard Delnar's voice. 'Come in.'

Riker stepped into a large, but lightly furnished room. No paintings adorned the walls, and only four pieces of furniture cluttered the room's clean but spartan lines. In the corner rested a Vulcan lute, but Riker's thoughts were not on the room, but on the people sat before him.

Admiral Delnar was an Andorian, with the light blue skin and antennae characteristic to the species. His manner was often slow and thoughtful, but he had a quick temper that surprised many who did not know him.

Fleet Captain Harris was a familiar face to Riker, who had studied the former's logs and missions in some detail over the last few years. The _Enterprise's_ first officer was a great admirer of the Fleet Captain professionally, but when they had first met, Riker had not been able to stand the other's pompous manner and superciliousness. The feelings were mutual. Riker gave him a curt nod.

The other two were Admirals whom Riker did not know, and they stood as he entered. Harris, as Riker would expect, stayed sat at first, but a grunt from Delnar shifted him lazily to his feet.

Delnar gestured to the two unknowns. 'Commander, this is Admiral Johns and Admiral Ballas.'

Riker shook hands with each in turn. Johns was human, shorter than Riker, and compactly built. His bald head reminded the commander of Picard somewhat, although his face was much softer than the "old burrhog".

In contrast, Admiral Ballas was a tall Bolian gentleman, with friendly eyes that peered from beneath a heavily lidded brow. Once Riker had made his acquaintance, Delnar indicated that the commander should sit down, saying, 'We're awaiting a call from Admiral Drayton any moment now.'

'What about?' asked Riker.

'We don't know yet, but this meeting is classified at the highest level,' said Harris. His lazy drawl had always irritated Riker. 'That means keep your mouth shut.'

Delnar threw the Fleet Captain a dark look, but Harris ignored him to take a seat on the other side of the room.

At that moment, the comm unit bleeped and the computer said, 'Coded transmission from Admiral Drayton to Admiral Delnar. Please enter access code.'

Delnar gave his authorisation, which the computer accepted immediately, and Drayton's dark face appeared on the large screen that dominated the west wall of the room. He glanced around at the assembled group of officers before saying, 'Thank you for attending this emergency briefing, gentlemen.'

Riker frowned at the use of the word "emergency", but kept quiet for the moment. Drayton continued, 'I've called the group of you together so that I can explain to you a situation which has developed inside the Neutral Zone.'

'The Romulans?' asked Ballas.

Drayton shook his head. 'If only. No, the Romulans appear to be keeping to their side of the alliance and they are keeping well away from the Neutral Zone at the moment. With good reason.'

'What reason?' asked Delnar.

Drayton took a breath, and stole a short glance at Riker. 'The Romulans have been in contact with Starfleet recently, and we have exchanged a great deal of tactical data. A few days ago, they sent us a message that contained a great deal of worrying information. A science ship and a Warbird were destroyed over the same planet by a mysterious new force.'

Harris leaned slightly forward. 'Why does this concern Starfleet Command?'

'Because,' said Drayton, 'the planet Kiros, the planet over which the two Romulan ships were lost, has been utterly destroyed.'

The bluntness of the announcement jolted Riker to his feet. Dimly, he noted that Delnar and Ballas had risen too, while Johns had bowed his head. Harris cursed softly. Drayton continued, 'While Starfleet doesn't intend to get involved in Romulan internal affairs, we recognise what a threat this force may be to the Federation and we are standing ready to assist the Romulans if they so desire our help.'

He glanced at the others. 'Admiral Ballas and Admiral Johns will be taking command of an effort to try and determine the magnitude of the threat to the Federation, while Admiral Delnar will liaise directly with the Romulan command to gain as much tactical data as possible.'

'And myself and Commander Riker?' asked Harris.

'Captain Harris, you will take command of a Starfleet taskforce and prepare to enter Romulan space if and when requested in order to track down this force.'

Riker looked at Drayton, puzzled. 'And my presence at this meeting?'

Drayton sighed slightly and looked at Riker with sympathy in his eyes. 'The _Enterprise_ will be the command ship of the taskforce, Commander. Captain Harris will take command from there and you will be his first officer.'

'_What?_' asked Riker dangerously. 'What about Captain Picard?'

Drayton ignored the question, and looked back at the others. 'That is all for the moment, gentlemen. Thank you for your time. You will receive extra individual briefings as the situation requires.' He spared an extra glance for Delnar. 'Admiral, would it be possible to speak to Commander Riker in private?'

Delnar nodded slightly. 'By all means.'

'Thank you. Dismissed.'

Delnar, Ballas and Johns all left quickly, while Harris paused and directed a faintly puzzled but smug glance at Riker. With that, he left.

Riker had not turned away from the screen. 'I expect an answer to my question, Admiral. Captain Picard is –'

'Captain Picard is off-duty for the moment, Commander. Captain Harris is being given temporary command of the _Enterprise_ until we can work out what is wrong with Jean-Luc.'

The use of Picard's first name by the C-in-C reminded Riker as to the seriousness of the situation, but also to the personal interest that was being taken by the Admiralty in the entire affair. Of course, Drayton was the only one of them who knew the exact details of Picard's affliction, aside from the _Enterprise_ crew, but it was still odd to find such resources and time and energy being devoted to protecting a mere starship captain.

Riker grinned mirthlessly to himself, causing Drayton to frown slightly. 'But of course, Captain Picard is a vital asset to Starfleet. And you simply do not release such a valuable resource go without a fight.'

'There is more to it than that,' replied Drayton icily. 'Jean-Luc is a good friend and an excellent commander –'

'And, among other things, the one and only decisive factor that Starfleet has against the Borg,' added Riker quietly.

Drayton's face froze over with anger. But he curbed his fury, saying, 'We have higher considerations than that, _Commander_,' emphasising the rank to let Riker know how close he was to crossing the line. Toleration was given often to the _Enterprise_ crew due to their excellence and reputation, but even so….

Riker forced his own sense of betrayal to the back of his mind, and looked at Drayton again. 'When will the _Enterprise_ and her taskforce assemble?'

'You and Captain Harris will take the _Enterprise_ immediately to Starbase 785 on the Neutral Zone border, and you will meet with five starships there and await further orders.' Drayton's voice was under noticeably better control.

'What about Operation Wipeout?'

'Operation Wipeout is not an option at the moment, Commander,' said Drayton. 'I need the _Enterprise_ at full working strength, not laid up for eight weeks having its computer wiped.'

'Even if that means saving Captain Picard's sanity?' countered Riker.

'Believe me, that is an absolute priority,' replied Drayton, 'and I hope that by keeping him from the _Enterprise_ until it can return and have the operation completed, we can achieve that objective.'

'And who will inform Captain Picard of the change of command?'

Drayton's face became hard. 'I will.'

Picard glanced up at the viewer on his desk as it bleeped. After a moment, noting the security encryption on it, he pressed the receive button, setting the padd he had been reading onto the desk beside it. 'Picard here.'

Drayton's face appeared. Picard immediately spotted the lines of stress around his eyes, and the searching look that the C-in-C had probed him with briefly vanished after a moment. 'Jean-Luc, it's good to see you.'

Picard put on a faint smile. 'Why do I get the feeling that this isn't a social call?'

Drayton didn't smile back, but remained fixed with the perturbed expression that Picard had noted. 'Captain, I'm having to inform you that the _Enterprise_ will be leaving Starbase 445 in two days.'

Picard smiled slightly. 'Is the worm virus non-existent, Admiral?'

Drayton narrowed his eyes in return. 'No, Jean-Luc. But the _Enterprise_ is needed on the Neutral Zone border immediately.'

Picard nodded once, his demeanour one of a man pleased to be getting back to business. 'I'm glad, sir. What are our departure orders?'

Drayton paused, and then glanced down, telling Picard all that he needed to know before he spoke. 'I said that the _Enterprise_ is going.'

'But not me?' Picard's lip twisted in bitter anger, an expression that Drayton had not seen before on the face of the normally imperturbable captain. 'Damn it, sir, I need to be on that ship!'

'I can't allow that, Captain,' said Drayton firmly.

Picard stared furiously at the screen before he reined in his anger and nodded tightly. 'Will Commander Riker be commanding in my place?'

Drayton shook his head. 'No, I've assigned Fleet Captain Ian Harris as your temporary replace –'

'That pompous _ass_ is going to sit in _my chair_?' Picard's voice, coming from such a controlled source, could only be termed a shriek, with derision ringing in every word. 'Harris has about as much captaincy skill as Riker has in his little finger!'

'Nevertheless that is my decision,' said Drayton, his face freezing over again. Inwardly, he was stunned by Picard's reaction. Although the reports suggested mental trauma, he had never seen such a wild reaction, even more shocking from someone heralded as Starfleet's best captain. 'Once the mission is over, the _Enterprise_ will return to Starbase 445 and the virus will be purged from its systems.'

Picard's eyes were tightly closed now, and he remained silently still for a moment, before he said, his voice tightly controlled, in a tone that was hollow but laden with doom, 'You and I both know that I will never command a starship again, Admiral.'

Drayton stared at Picard's face for a moment, and then the screen blanked out.

For a long moment, Picard held his eyes tightly screwed shut, his face bearing such a look of pain that he looked as if his soul were being torn from him.

He reached for the padd, and activated it. The data record streamed past his unseeing eyes, but the words entered his soul and tore into him.

Drayton, Riker, his entire crew had lied to him. They had all seen this record, he knew, and had fought to keep it from him. This mysterious alien race, those that had tried to take over Starfleet once before, had returned.

He did not understand all that was written in those logs, speaking as they did of war, fire and death spreading across the stars. He could not comprehend this story, stretching as it did across four quadrants of the galaxy, speaking of places he had never seen, never been to, things he could never had done.

Picard stared silently at the screen, knowing these things could never have happened, but also knowing, in some dark recess of his mind that had awakened from its dark slumber, that these things _had_ happened, that he had been there, that he had given those orders to win what seemed to be an almost hopeless war against the black ships.

His already overloaded mind could not cope with the twin contradictions, forced to the brink by the hallucinations and the imagined betrayals of his crew and friends. He could see the flames burning now, as his voice droned on mechanically, rising high in the room, filling the air with the smell of burning flesh and metal.

They were realer, brighter, more solid than they had ever been before. In their glowing reddened depths, he could see the real darkness swimming towards him from the depths of his psyche. Those fanged monstrosities, shaped by the bloodily furious minds of their creators, designed to inspire terror and hatred in all who beheld them, loomed large in his eyes, from the fires of imagined purgatory.

Faces, people he knew and didn't know, spoke silently to him. There, Ben Sisko – there, Admiral Nechayev, her eyes blazing with malicious intent. In the corner, a woman, blonde hair, Borg implants across her face.

But all these faces were as nothing to the intensity of the main face in this gallery of shimmering visages. No, only one face held Picard's attention like this.

Jet-black hair, brown eyes, maybe unspectacular in a normal context, but to Picard this image would captivate and hold him in its embrace for all eternity. He had once pledged himself to the beauty of this face, he knew, somehow, and had it _torn_, brutally severed from his grasp, in a way that… had…

His mind, tortured and brutalised beyond all belief and beyond that which any sentient being should undergo, fell. The barriers, set up by Q, blocking those horrific memories so slowly and unexpectedly brought to life, had collapsed, exposing him to their full onslaught of a previously restrained horror.

To make it worse, his uncomprehending mind, having had the conscious recollection stripped from it, could not make sense of those memories, freed in a flood like a raging torrent released by a burst dam. They crashed and roiled wildly through his brain, expending their pent-up fury and driving him ever more speedily into the grasp of the madness.

The alternate timelines, the love he had felt, the breaking of the silver cord, the Aralla themselves, all conspired, joined and rose up in a mental holocaust that scoured his mind, stripped it of reasoning and shattered it like a pane of glass under the impact of a giant hammer.

Picard fell to his knees, mouth opening in a soundless scream as he plunged, headlong, uncontrollably, into the gaping maw of complete and utter insanity.

Deanna Troi wandered along the corridors of the Starbase, thinking quietly. A habit she had developed on the _Enterprise_, she had taken to wandering around late on the night shift, treading the lower decks and the rarely used corridors of the starship when she could not sleep. Even with such a large crew that the _Enterprise_ had, it was still quite possible to find niches of calm and quiet amidst the toil and trouble of the starship.

For one thing, being an empath, it meant she could get away from the emotional turbulence every once in a while. It was a secret habit that she had managed to keep quiet, even from Will Riker.

And even when relegated to a starbase, she still maintained that habit, rare as it was to find a quiet area on a smaller, more self-contained environment such as one of these communities.

But now, she wandered along the upper corridors of the central spire of Starbase 445, along the officers' quarters. Occasionally, she would return a greeting with one of the junior officers, but for the most part, she was fairly alone.

And then, just as she was passing the crew quarters for the _Enterprise_ officers, a sudden ripple of unease swam through her. Before she could react to it, and bring up her mental defences, a hammerblow of raw emotion crashed into her mind, sending Troi sprawling to the deck with a sharp cry of agony.

As the emotional wave roared through her mind, battering her senses into submission, she caught glimpses of fire, death and a face that blazed through her mind with the white-hot fury of a supernova.

That face she recognised and told her everything she needed to know. As she forced up her mental shielding and staggered to her feet, Deanna Troi knew what had happened, and she could not suppress the spectre of fear that seared through her mind.

'Captain!'

She guessed that maybe ten minutes had passed since the initial outburst, and, though it was probably a forlorn hope now, she forced herself onwards to try and help.

But, as she arrived at Picard's quarters and opened the door, there was nothing she could do. Picard had gone, leaving only a series of broken ornaments strewn across the floor of his quarters and a trail of shatteringly wild and powerful emotions to mark his passing.

Troi stepped into the quarters, her mind still reeling from the emotional assault, and her ears immediately picked up the sound of Picard's own voice, still mechanically speaking those dark words which had sent their progenitor into the depths of insanity. Troi didn't need to hear the words which were spoken, knowing only that the fact they were spoken at all for Picard to hear was a disaster in itself, and threatened to unravel all they had strived to achieve in the last two years.

Troi stood in the dark before she tapped her commbadge, and said, not hearing the tremulous worry in her voice, 'Troi to Riker.'

'Riker here, Deanna,' Riker's voice was concerned as well. 'I know what you're about to tell me.'

'The captain's found something out,' said Troi.

Riker sighed. 'We know. He just blasted out of the Starbase with a runabout, the USS _Missouri_, about 30 seconds ago. He got past us before we could field him and took off into deep space. We've lost him.'

Troi sagged in desperate fear, for both her captain and friend. 'Will, call the staff together. We need to know what we're going to do –'

'No can do,' said Riker, and Troi heard strained anger in his voice. 'We've been given orders to ship out tomorrow morning. Captain Harris won't allow me to take a ship after the captain.'

'Then what can we do?'

There was silence for a moment, before Riker said, quietly, 'As far as Starfleet is concerned – nothing. As far as anyone's concerned, Captain Picard is on his own.'


	3. Dark Future

__

Chapter III

'They tore the _T'Partel_ apart as if it were a _stallen_ surrounded by _silvakripe_,' said Ratek firmly. He stared silently at the three Romulan dignitaries before him, displayed on the monitor in his briefing room. Relesi stood behind him, her normally actively emotional face now saturnine and placid. Ratek knew that it was a feigned peace. He knew from the way her fingers were digging into the chair upon which he sat.

'Then why did you not respond in the manner which we expect?' asked Senator Volnar. 'We do expect that the Romulan military keep the honour of the Star Empire close to their hearts.'

Ratek turned a cool gaze onto Volnar. The older man responded by fixing his eyes on the commander. 'Senator, I had nothing other than the best interests of the Empire at heart. I knew that if we decloaked inside the Neutral Zone, and, even worse, began a firefight inside disputed territory, that might attract the attention of the Federation or the Klingons. Even after our alliance, can we trust the others yet?'

'The answer is maybe,' said Neral, the Praetor. The young man observed the others for a moment before continuing, 'Maybe we can trust our former allies against the Dominion, but it is the answer to the wrong question. Whether or not the new vessel crosses into Federation or Romulan space, we have been attacked without provocation. We are well within our rights to send a fleet after it.'

'The question is not, Praetor, whether or not we have the right,' said Volnar, 'but more as to how we are to assemble this fleet to send. We do not have the manpower or the naval strength to combat a threat that has demonstrated its power in such obvious ways, and with such casual ease to have destroyed one of our Warbirds.'

Neral frowned slightly, casting a glance at the others again. Volnar often spoke in convoluted ways, stringing his sentences together in odd fashions, and to hear him speak so clearly and concisely was a surprise and an indication of how serious the old man felt the crisis was.

For his turn, Ratek kept his attention on Neral. The young Praetor was a very capable person, able and intelligent enough to ally the Romulans with the Federation and the Klingons against the Dominion when it appeared as if the war might rage into the Romulan backyard.

Ratek had known the young Neral when the other was a junior officer aboard the ship Ratek had served on at the time, the _Krelnar_. Even then, he had been struck by the vision and awareness that Neral had shown, and the two had become friends in the short time that the young man had been aboard the _Krelnar_.

It had come as no surprise that Neral had entered the cut-throat world of politics, especially with the political atmosphere in the Senate at the time. Rising quickly from local Senator to Proconsul in record time, he had been one of the chief advocates for the re-entry of the Star Empire into galactic politics once again.

Ratek never had felt faint stirrings of pride at the level which Neral had reached. It had always seemed to the commander that Neral was almost destined for the position. Thus, he had not been surprised at his final appointment as Praetor, and certainly not sought to attribute any of Neral's successes to his own tutelage. That would have been foolish, not to say inaccurate.

Ratek was a simple man, he knew, good at what he did well, and that satisfied him. Neral was a genius, he believed, and he felt privileged to have served with him. That was as far as it should take him.

A new voice distracted Ratek. 'We should consider the possibility that it may be a Breen weapon.'

Ratek turned his gaze onto the scarred face of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar, Koval. Koval was reputed to the second most powerful man in the Empire, behind the Praetor only in influence. His flat-toned voice, pitched just below comfortable hearing level, forced all who spoke with him to strain to hear his words, giving you the impression that everything that was said was worth hearing.

However, Ratek reflected, that was also very probably true for Koval. His influence extended all the way from the Neutral Zone to the edge of the Empire – some said beyond. And since he had been appointed to the Continuing Committee, his power had spread.

But for now, Ratek was only concerned by what Koval had just said. 'Chairman, I fought on the front lines of the war against the Breen and the Cardassians, and I can say that even the Breen do not have this sort of technology.'

'The war and the involvement of the Breen threw up a vast number of surprises for all of us,' said Neral thoughtfully.

Koval nodded calmly. 'We have no way of knowing how badly the Breen were affected by the war. For all we know, they were reserving their main fleet for an assault on either Romulus or Qo'nos after the war was lost. As far as the Breen were concerned, the defeat of the Dominion was simply part of their plan. We all know that they are more duplicitous than any others.'

'Never turn your back on a Breen,' said Volnar miserably.

Neral nodded in agreement. 'I think that Chairman Koval may have a point. It may be prudent to send a ship to track the unidentified vessel and determine if it comes from Breen territory.' He looked at Ratek and smiled slightly. 'Commander, you and the _G'gerithau_ are to shadow this ship and relay its movements to the High Command.'

Ratek nodded slightly, unhappily. Neral had obviously seen his expression, for he smiled again, and added, 'This mission is to be the forefront of our response, Commander. I know how eager you are to avenge the destruction of the _T'Partel_ and the _Talkaris_, and I assure you that time will come. I will have a fleet of Warbirds assembled, and readied for battle. We will not stand idly by.'

Ratek nodded again, more firmly. 'Very well, Praetor, I will do my duty. Thank you for the opportunity.'

Neral nodded. The screen blanked out. Immediately Relesi, who had obviously been holding it back, burst out, 'The _Breen_? We were both on the front lines, and we saw what the Breen could do, but even they couldn't do that!'

Ratek nodded. 'I don't believe it's the Breen either, Relesi. However, the Continuing Committee gives us our orders, and we must follow them. As long as we keep tabs on the ship, we will be doing our bit while they assemble a fleet.' He stood and turned to face her, conviction in his eyes as he reached out and gripped her hands. 'And I promise you, we will be at the forefront of that fleet and we will avenge the _Talkaris_ and Serisa.'

Relesi gazed deep into his eyes, and found only burning determination there. She smiled slightly and raised herself up to kiss him gently. With that, she turned and left.

Ratek watched her go, knowing how much he loved her. The two of them had been conducting a quiet affair since Ratek's wife had been killed in action aboard a Warbird on the frontlines of the war. With no children, and little family to speak of, he had been supported and nourished by his love for the younger first officer.

Yes, life might turn out very nicely for the two of them – if only he could help his love overcome her guilt and vengeful anger at the death of her closest sister.

He brought himself to the present. Casting a glance at the now dark monitor, he stepped onto the bridge. He glanced at the helmsman. 'Set course for Kiros. Cloak and engage at maximum warp.'

The huge Warbird _G'gerithau_ turned ponderously on its axis. With a slow ripple that began at the stern and covered the entire ship, it vanished into the black, so that none would see its huge engines flash gently and propel it into warp speed.

Lieutenant Truper pushed himself from his seat at the helm. As he relinquished his position to the junior helm officer, he quickly glanced at Riker, who sat in the command chair, looking slightly dejected.

After four days of travelling, the _Enterprise_ was finally nearing the rendezvous point for the rest of the taskforce before they set off again for the Romulan border. At that point, Captain Harris would take command of the ship and lead the taskforce. He had left Starbase 445 before the _Enterprise_ in order to administrate the linking up of the various ships that had to be pulled into the taskforce.

But that, Truper suspected, was not what was bothering the first officer. Or, at least, not primarily.

It had been a full week since Captain Picard had blasted out of the Starbase with a stolen runabout. And, as if to add an element of farce to the situation, it had been a runabout borrowed from _Deep Space Nine_ for one of their officers at a conference on Starbase 445. Colonel Kira had not been pleased, Truper remembered. Riker had had to explain to her over the main viewer, without revealing the exact situation.

Truper personally disagreed with the continued secrecy now that the captain obviously recalled what had happened. What, now, was the point? It was unlikely that anything could be done for him again, and obviously what had been done before had failed.

Still, that was only his opinion, and he was a lieutenant, so what did he know?

Truper smiled faintly, and left the bridge.

He made his way slowly to his quarters, not really paying attention to his direction. He had been on the _Enterprise_ a good three years and he certainly knew his way around the ship almost blindfold. Especially the route to his quarters.

He stepped through the door to his quarters, stopped, and frowned. 'Ghia, what are you doing? I thought you were still on duty.'

Hedly glanced up and smiled at her husband. 'I am, technically, but Commander Riker's asked me to look into how Captain Picard managed to break through our security precautions and access those logs we sealed off.'

Truper nodded, understanding. 'Oh great. More time to spend together.'

Hedly smiled wider this time and stood up to hug him. 'Don't say it like that.'

Truper returned her smile, letting her know he wasn't serious. He did indeed want to spend more time with this woman, whom he loved deeply. It was a strange attraction between the two of them. Hedly was a very extrovert woman, and she had always maintained a strict separation between herself and other men.

Truper, on the other hand, tended towards the quiet, and was a very open person, he believed, and always on the lookout for companionship. Strange, he thought, that the two of them had had such a whirlwind romance shortly after the war began, and had actually married only a month ago, while the _Enterprise_ had been in the Briar Patch.

Truper smiled at Hedly and kissed her gently. He had to reach, as she was slightly taller than he. He freed himself from her embrace, and took a look at the viewer which Hedly had been studying before he had made his entrance. 'What was it you said you were looking at?'

He sat down and Hedly stood behind his chair, and rested her hands on his shoulders. 'The access records for the logs that we protected against the captain finding them.' She began to massage his shoulders, and Truper could feel the stress and knots in his muscles melting away under her expert touch. Then, something caught his eye.

'Ghia, what are these here?'

'What?' Hedly looked closer at where Truper's finger was pointing.

'These access records show that no-one's been able to get into the captain's records since Admiral Drayton and Commander Riker sealed them.'

Hedly nodded, not seeing where Truper was taking the subject. 'Yes, I know. That's what I'm trying to figure out – how the captain could have got through to forbidden records without alerting either myself or the entire senior staff.'

Truper glanced for a moment at the readout that had caught his eye and realised the problem. 'But there's one file which has been added recently to this list.'

'_What?!_' Hedly squatted by Truper's side and looked at the file that he had mentioned. She stared for a long moment at the dates, as though trying to convince herself that they did exist and then shook her head slowly from side to side, long hair waving. 'That file's not part of the original group of documents we sealed off. Evidently, it has, as you said, been added later.'

'How?'

Hedly smiled faintly. 'I set up a continuous monitor on Captain Picard's records that were designed to scan for certain words – Nechayev, Aralla, that sort of thing. If it found anything of that sort, in what I defined for the program to be a damaging context, it would seal the file away from him.'

Truper nodded, impressed. 'Very clever.'

Hedly shrugged, looking again at the information displayed before them. 'Not clever enough,' she replied quietly. She sighed and stood up. 'Come on, we need to get this to Counsellor Troi.'

Troi shook her head gently as she read through the files and their recorded voices and words, combined together in one single long script. 'Damn,' she muttered softly. She glanced up at Data, who watched her worriedly. 'Did you know he'd recorded a log shortly after he visited this parallel reality?'

Data shook his head. 'He never told any of us anything until that meeting.'

Troi nodded, frustrated. 'I should have known that he would never let it lie,' she said bitterly. 'He always was stubborn.'

'How did he get the information?' Hedly had taken a position in the corner, and it was she who had spoken.

Data turned, and looked at the security chief. 'According to the data, Captain Picard had contact with someone on Earth who had access to Starfleet archival data. We don't know who, but it had to be someone with strong links to Starfleet itself. I can only suggest one of the Admiralty.'

'Why would one of the Admiralty give him such sensitive information?' asked Troi, perplexed. 'Something isn't adding up here,' she added. 'It had to be someone outside the normal command structure.'

Hedly moved away from the wall against which she leant. 'I'll start checking the comm logs as soon as I get a chance,' she said.

'He was very good at covering his tracks,' said Troi doubtfully.

Hedly smiled slightly, an intense expression crossing her face. 'I'm good at that sort of thing,' she replied. So saying, she nodded to them both and left the room.

Data watched the door close behind Hedly and turned to Troi with a half-smile on his face. The Counsellor's expression was extremely downcast. Data noticed this, and his faint grin faded as he looked at Troi with concern. 'Is there something wrong, Counsellor?'

Troi nodded. 'I should have seen all of this coming,' she said morosely. 'The captain's out there somewhere, and I should have been well-prepared to combat this.'

'We all were caught on the hop somewhat,' said Data. 'I believe that the emotional wounds that were afflicted on the crew were healing, and that we were beginning to come back onto an even keel. What happened two years ago was a bitter and savagely surprising blow to all of us. None of us, least of all you, could have predicted that it might spring up again so soon, let alone at all.'

Troi looked up into the android's golden eyes for a moment, and then smiled faintly. 'Thank you, Data. I hope that in future you keep your objectivity. We all need you to lean on for emotional support.'

So saying, she stood, stretched, and slowly walked past the surprised, but delighted android.

After five days of travel, the _Enterprise_ had at last reached the rendezvous point for the taskforce it would lead.

It was the last ship to arrive, flashing out of warp speed and approaching the other starships with casually majestic grace. These other ships it dwarfed with ease, none of them matching the giant flagship in sheer presence.

However, Riker, from his vantage point on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, was mightily impressed by the nine-ship force. Harris had certainly pulled out all of the stops, and it was obvious that Starfleet also took the mission seriously enough to deploy some of their best ships to the mission.

For the twentieth time since leaving Starbase 445, Riker glanced through the list of starships, automatically noting their strengths and weaknesses.

Firstly, and these two ships were proof alone of Starfleet's considerable interest in this mission, the USS _Prometheus_ and the USS _Delphi_. Two of the most powerful starships in the fleet, capable of multi-vector assault modes and equipped with the latest weapons and technology; Riker would not feel comfortable taking the _Enterprise_ into battle against _one_ of those ships, let alone two.

Two _Excelsior_-class vessels, the USS _Livingston_ and the USS _Kyoto_ supplemented the sheer force of the _Prometheus_-class ships. The _Excelsior_-class had long been the mainstay of Starfleet, and Riker knew that these two ships were two of the best of their generation.

The USS _Nadesico_ and the USS _Magnum_, two _Akira_-class starships, would be the back-up for the fleet. The _Akira_-class had not proved themselves such a success in the war against the Dominion, and casualties on those ships had been higher than those of many others. However, the fleet was still recovering from their losses, and the captains of the two ships were both combat veterans. Riker felt confident in their ability.

Another super-heavy starship, the USS _Texas_, a _Galaxy_-class vessel, also awaited the _Enterprise_. A fairly new ship, one of the many hastily commissioned during the war, it was of the class that once formed the centrepiece of Starfleet. Riker could help but see the old _Enterprise-D's_ sleek lines in every contour of the _Texas_. But that ship was long dead, and he now felt even more attached to this vessel than he had done to the old _Enterprise_.

However, the backbone of the taskforce were the four _Defiant_-class starships. Modelled on the famous ship once commanded by Benjamin Sisko, these newer vessels were more than a match for any ship in the quadrant, and had demonstrated that countless times against the Cardassians, the Breen and the Dominion. The USS _Galahad_, USS _Lancelot_, USS _Blade_ and USS _Knight _were all brand-new ships, younger than the other ships by two or three years.

Mainly named for the old knights of the legendary Round Table, these new starships were the vanguard of the taskforce, and they would lead the fleet into battle against whoever stood in their way.

For a moment, knowing that he was to be involved in this magnificent display of firepower and beauty, Riker felt proud of his position in second command of this display of Federation power.

And that wiped the faint smile away from him, as he recalled just who he would be working under. If it had been Captain Picard, Riker would have been nearly as proud as if he had been given full command. But Captain Harris….

It was not that Harris was a bad officer. No, he had truly earned his position in the fleet by brilliant captaincy of starships, combined with a shrewd mind and expert tactical awareness. Combining this with a definite skill at man management, he had been one of the premier captains in the fleet, and at one time was reportedly considered for one of the top captaincy jobs – either the _Enterprise_ or _Deep Space Nine_, especially when Sisko left Starfleet for a brief period.

And then he had ended up out of the way, a starship captain no longer, but not in the Admiralty. Fleet Captains had few active duties in the fleet now, having been relegated mostly to the dustcart along with the redundant position of commodore. And Harris, one of the top dogs of the profession, was in this odd situation. That worried Riker enormously.

What had Harris done to get himself into such a situation? What piece of the puzzle was Riker missing?

The turbolift doors slid open and Troi stepped onto the bridge. She glanced at Riker, and he could see the concern in her expression. But, before he could say anything to her, Hedly spoke. 'Commander, we're receiving a transmission from the _Prometheus_. It's Captain Harris.'

Riker nodded, trying not to let his distaste show. 'Patch it through to the ready room.' He stood, and headed towards the door on the far side of the bridge.

As he entered, he switched the small desk viewer on and sat before it as Harris' face appeared on it. 'Ah, Commander,' he said. 'Like the taskforce?'

'Most impressive, sir,' replied Riker neutrally. 'When will we be setting off?'

Harris looked for a moment at the younger man. 'I understand your resentment of my command assignment,' he said after a moment. 'But Starfleet felt that Captain Picard might not be fit for the command of this mission.'

Riker frowned slightly, but he was determined not to give the other any satisfaction. 'How do you mean, sir?'

Harris smiled slightly, self-deprecatingly. 'Don't worry, Commander. We both have a job to do. If you don't like me and I don't like you, then that's by the by. All that is required is that we work together for a short while and then part company when the mission is over.'

Riker stared at the other, and then nodded. 'Until then is acceptable,' he said. 'When do we depart?'

'For the moment, Starfleet is awaiting word from our contact in the Romulan Continuing Committee. Once we know what they have in mind, we can act.'

Riker nodded. 'So we wait until then?'

'Yes,' said Harris. 'I'll beam aboard the _Enterprise_ immediately. I need time to familiarise myself with her crew.'

There was little Riker could do or say except for to nod again. 'Very well. At your convenience, Captain.'

Harris smiled slightly, and cut the link.

The _G'gerithau_ glided quietly through the darkness of space. It was silently tracking the gigantic ship at a distance of nine parsecs, deemed a safe distance from whatever sensors the ship was using. Actually, the science officer had said that five parsecs was safe, but Ratek was a very cautious man.

Currently, the huge ship was travelling at warp four. Relesi had been stunned by this fact, Ratek remembered, as he mused on the mission from the brooding centrality of his command chair. To propel something of that mass must take unbelievable power reserves, she had said.

Ratek smiled faintly. She had not been able to leave the subject alone at all, even taking some time out from her routine duties to study the subject. If she could work out how they were doing it, it might revolutionise the way that the Alpha Quadrant utilised power sources and power waste management. She said.

Privately, Ratek believed that she was verging on the optimistic side of her nature. By nature a pessimistic character himself, one of the things that Relesi managed to do in their relationship was to keep him balanced against a depression that had threatened to envelop him since his wife's death.

At that moment, the port bridge door slid open, disturbing Ratek from his reverie. Relesi walked towards him, and saluted quite formally. Ratek kept his face neutral. 'Sir, I've just completed a series of experiments based on the unidentified ship's supposed power sources.' A faint look of irritation crossed her face. 'It appears that they're utilising some form of power management protocols that we have absolutely no idea about. We would need to conduct scans of their ship in order to find out how they can manage such vast reserves of energy.'

'And that is not going to happen,' said Ratek mildly. 'Our orders are to track the ship to its destination, not to get involved in scientific research missions. Especially not after what happened to the _T'Partel_.'

Relesi nodded slightly, her expression not changing, but her voice was slightly reproving. 'I was not about to recommend that, sir.'

Ratek smiled inwardly. 'I know.'

'Sir!' The helm officer's voice broke their quiet moment, and both Ratek and Relesi turned to face the young man, alerted by the worried note in his voice. 'The unidentified ship has changed course!'

'What's their new heading, Nelran?' asked Ratek immediately.

'They're heading on bearing 587 mark 447,' replied the helm officer.

'That'll take them out of the Neutral Zone, sir,' added Relesi.

Ratek nodded. 'And out of our jurisdiction,' he murmured to himself. He glanced at Nelran. 'Alter course accordingly. Maintain our current distance and hold until we reach the border. I will inform the Continuing Committee.' He looked at Relesi, faint concern rising in her eyes. 'You have the bridge, Subcommander.'

'Heading _out_ of the Zone?' asked Neral. 'Not towards Romulan space?'

Ratek nodded, remaining neutral. 'I do not understand their motives for doing so. There are many strategic bases and ships placed along the border. I for one would have started an advance along those points.'

'Then we had better be glad that you are not the enemy commander,' replied Volnar.

'The enemy may not know of these strategic points,' remarked Koval. Ratek threw the Tal Shiar Chairman a glance, confident enough in his own military ability and experience to correct even this man.

'Even if he did not know of these strategic locations, sir, it would still be prudent and advised to destroy them in order to prevent them from becoming active and possibly being used against him. Any competent military commander would do so if he were planning an invasion of Romulan space.' Koval, he knew, was not a military man.

Koval stared for a long moment at Ratek, who began to wonder if he had overstepped the mark. Then the older man nodded, and looked back towards Neral. The Praetor turned to Volnar for a quiet discussion and then spoke with Koval. He turned back to Ratek. 'Commander, I want you to take your ship to the border of Federation space and continue monitoring the ship until it is out of your sensor range. Our fleet will meet you there.'

Ratek nodded. 'As you command.'

Far below the central tower of the Praetorium, below the Senate building, beneath the offices of officials and functionaries of the bureaucracy, far below the daily bustle of the Romulan government which nestled below the graceful spires and columns of the Presidium, lay the Tal Shiar.

A coiled serpent hid beneath the eagle of Romulan government. It had often been speculated, mainly by unwise men who did not know when to be silent, if the Tal Shiar should be either laid open to public scrutiny or simply to greater control. Many advocates of these approaches had either disappeared or simply found dead next to a suicide note. As a result, the Tal Shiar was now a subject to be avoided.

Koval preferred it that way. He had often stated that the Tal Shiar would not fall in the same way as the Obsidian Order had on Cardassia, and so kept their operations quiet and unobserved.

The period of weakness that the Tal Shiar had experienced after the disaster of their joint operation with the Obsidian Order had been controlled and survived under Koval's expert leadership, and their position in Romulan government had never been severely threatened by reformers. However, it was a mark of how far the Tal Shiar had to go to be reaccepted into the upper echelons of Romulan government that only now had Koval been finally accepted onto the Continuing Committee.

The Chairman had left the meeting with Commander Ratek, Neral and Volnar rather angry with himself. Although little expression showed on his scarred face, beneath the surface Koval was seething.

Ratek had belittled his knowledge publicly and he had not reacted in the same fashion. Although such a slight might seem minor, to Koval, any slur against him was a slight against the Tal Shiar itself. The loyalty he felt to that powerful organisation far outweighed any strength of loyalty that he had for the Star Empire itself.

He now sat alone in his chambers, before a small transmitter unit that he had assembled from various small electronic items around the room. On their own, the smaller components had no individual power sources and were merely conduits and isolinear chips for the replicator, a lamp, and a minor part of the computer's main access relay.

Together, however, they made up the various parts for one of the most powerful subspace transmitters in the quadrant. It was powered by one of the spare power cells for Koval's personal disruptor and was capable of transmitting a signal all the way from Romulus to the nearest Federation relay station.

However, because of the massive power burst that was necessary for the transmitter to operate, the signal would last less than two seconds. Koval transmitted the information in a single pulse containing five gigabytes of tightly compressed data. This would be reprocessed and decompressed into recognisable code by a special unit on the relay station and then passed down the line all the way to Earth.

Starfleet Intelligence had designed the unit, and provided it to Koval over a period of one month only a year before. He was mightily impressed by the devious thinking that went into the construction of the system, something that even the Tal Shiar had never done.

He was, he knew, Starfleet Intelligence's most powerful and valuable double agent. The plot to place him on the Continuing Committee had succeeded perfectly and his own personal power had been increased tenfold. He had provided top secret information to the head of Starfleet Intelligence for nearly two years now, and had more than benefited from what they had provided in way of reward to him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship and Koval was certain that Starfleet had benefited nearly as much as he from the information he was sending.

He glanced once at the transmitter, making sure that it was set up correctly. As always, his meticulous nature ensured his safety. He would be transmitting on the back of one of the Tal Shiar's standard intelligence signals out towards the border of the Neutral Zone. It was a classical method of ensuring against detection, by hiding the pulse inside a heavily decrypted signal. Even if suspected, to find the pulse would require the full signal to be decrypted and a less than two second burst would easily be overlooked in the morass of information.

Layer upon layer of security against discovery was Koval's trademark, something he had indoctrinated into the Tal Shiar. Who would believe that he was using the same methods against them?

In this few minutes before transmission, Koval would sit and think. He would question himself and what he did closely, to ensure his motives were… clear. Why did the most powerful man in the Romulan Empire turn suddenly and betray his people to one of their most powerful enemies?

But, Koval would privately argue with himself, was it really betrayal? Or was it a simple case of aiding a government which would, sooner rather than later, either become conqueror or ally?

Koval had made his reputation in the Empire on the back of his almost xenophobic attitude towards the Federation, having been known to say publicly that he would not be satisfied until the Romulan banner flew over the remains of Starfleet Headquarters on Earth and the Federation became a Romulan conquest. And he then transmitted his reports to Earth like the faithful Federation lapdogs that the Tal Shiar despised.

Koval could not reconcile what he did with why he did it. He had been bonded to the Tal Shiar from a very young age, and the Tal Shiar's sole existence was for the defence of the Romulan Star Empire. Despite his inward arguments, Koval knew that what he did and why he did it would never comfortably reconcile in his heart.

So he transmitted his reports and enjoyed the benefits that were awarded him.

The transmitter bleeped once, alerting Koval that the Tal Shiar signal had begun. He quickly pressed a small control on the unit before him, which flashed a small red light at him for a couple of seconds before fading.

There. The biweekly act of betrayal was complete. Koval stood, feeling the increased stiffness in his side that was a sign of the Tuvan Syndrome that was slowly paralysing him. He picked up the transmitter and began to disassemble it.

And thus it was that he was replacing the last component in the lamp that the door slid open without being knocked upon first. Koval turned calmly to see who had created this intrusion and found himself facing two Romulan officers, both carrying disruptors. Furthermore, both of them were Tal Shiar officers. 'What is the meaning of this?'

One of the two, a young man but of higher rank than his older counterpart, stepped forward slightly, his weapon raised and aggressively pointed at Koval. 'Chairman Koval,' he said calmly, 'I arrest you on charges of treason and espionage.'

Koval smiled faintly, and glanced at the two officers seemingly unperturbed. Inside, his mind was racing. How had they found out? 'And upon what evidence do you base this wild accusation and false arrest?'

'I have been monitoring Tal Shiar transmissions for the last four months and I have noticed some very strange pulse surges along the wavelength for the entirety of my tenure. I have traced them back to you, Mr Chairman, and I am going to see you pay for your betrayal.'

Koval now knew two things – firstly, the young man was acting almost completely on his own. For any officer of the Tal Shiar to arrest a superior would require the express written permission of one of the higher ranks in the Tal Shiar. Any such permission would quite certainly come under the personal scrutiny of the Chairman of the Tal Shiar, and Koval knew of no such backing lent to this particular arrest. Almost certainly, it was a young man attempting to make a name for himself with a huge coup for his career.

But not only that, and this was something that quite definitely tilted the balance in his favour, the other officer with him had not been informed of the identity of the traitor they would arrest. In all probability, the other was simply an officer who worked with the young man and had been roped in as back-up. Koval had caught all of this in the stunned expression of the officer as he had turned to face them.

'I advise you to think very carefully about what you are both doing. Such an accusation will require strong evidence to back it up,' said Koval, speaking as much for the young man's benefit as the older officer's. If the hothead could be persuaded around, it was possible that he might leave this room alive.

'I have evidence,' said the young man, 'hidden away so that your goons in the interrogation section cannot get at it in order to save you. I will not sit by and let the honour of the Star Empire be tarnished by such as you.'

'I am the Chairman of the Tal Shiar,' said Koval, still calm. However, his eyes were now fixed on the older man, who was now looking more and more perturbed. 'My loyalty to the Tal Shiar and the Star Empire are beyond question, and my position means that I would be incapable of such a deception even if I wished to do so. The checks and balances that are placed upon the scales of government are such that anyone trying such a betrayal would be immediately caught.' _I should know_, he added mentally. _I designed them all._

'Silence!' shouted the young man, hatred running across his face. 'I will personally see that such as yourself are rooted out of the government, and the Empire and the people will prosper again! It is because of your corruption and betrayal that we are second to the Dominion, and the Breen and even the Klingons in the Alpha Quadrant –'

A disruptor blast rang out. The young man looked puzzled for a moment and then twisted and fell at Koval's feet. Behind him, the older man held his weapon up, his face frozen in a grimace of indecision, a grimace that showed the extreme conflict in his mind. He looked despairingly at Koval, who reached down and picked up the weapon the other had dropped in his final fall. 'Sir, I couldn't – he shouldn't have – he was –!' His stuttering, halting voice told Koval all he needed to know.

Koval nodded. 'I know. I am sorry.' In a flash of movement, he raised the weapon and shot the other man down. A trace of regret passed fleetingly over his face as he reset the weapon to full and disintegrated both corpses.

Both men had died needlessly. The younger was a true patriot, and his anger would have served the Empire well if it had been better directed. The older man Koval knew to be a loyal and dedicated officer, but his indecision that had led to first his superior's and then his own death had always kept him back.

Ah, well, at least his last decision had been the right one. But he had heard too much to live. Koval was annoyed that both loyal Tal Shiar officers had died, but his position was too precarious to allow even the hint of treason to drift in the corridors of the Senate.

He was loyal to both the Empire and the Tal Shiar, he knew, but his ultimate loyalty was to himself and his own. He would not allow anyone to destroy that or take what he had from him.

That was what Koval was.

Harris stared at the information on his screen for a long moment, before a slow smile crossed his face. 'This is accurate, I presume?'

A voice said, 'Yes. Our contact in the Romulan Senate is very highly placed. He has provided accurate and genuine data for more than eighteen months. There is no reason to doubt its veracity.'

'Good. That means that the unidentified ship is coming into our court.'

'Captain, Starfleet's worried about what this ship is doing.' The tactical map of the Neutral Zone vanished, to be replaced with Admiral Delnar's face. 'We don't want to get into a military situation if we can avoid it. We're still too weak after the war.'

'Well, yes, that's logical,' said Harris. 'But if you've provided me with this sort of taskforce, you can't expect me not to use it if the opportunity presents itself –'

'Damn it, Fleet Captain! That's exactly the sort of thinking that got you into this situation in the first place! If you weren't so bloody focussed on shooting your way out of a difficult situation, you'd be giving the orders from my side of the desk by now!' Delnar's eyes were blazing. Harris remained cool, however.

'Maybe so, Admiral, but we're not having a discussion about me or my command style. What we're trying to do is ascertain what a threat this ship is to us. Now, as far as I'm concerned, and I know that Admiral Ballas shares my view, that ship, once it crosses into Federation space, it becomes hostile. I'll try and treat it with as much care and tact as possible, but after seeing what's been done to Kiros, I'm not convinced that that approach will have much success.'

Delnar nodded, once, reluctantly. 'I know that, Captain. I just hope that we don't fall into something that's bigger than we can handle.'

Harris nodded. 'So do I.' There was a pause, and then Harris said, quietly, 'Is there any news on Captain Picard yet? This crew's on edge due to his disappearance, and it's all I can do to keep Riker from taking a shuttle himself and running off after him.'

'Riker's a good officer,' said Delnar, 'and he's very loyal to Picard. But, no, there's no news. Admiral Drayton's trapped between a rock and a hard place. He can't spare men to go after Picard, but we don't know what he's up to out there.'

Harris nodded. 'Do we have any idea where he is?'

'There have been a few sightings of the _Missouri_. It sometimes comes out of warp near random inhabited planets, but never close enough or for long enough for any Starfleet vessel to get hold of it.'

'Notify me if there's any news,' said Harris. 'It's important to me that the _Enterprise_ remains united under my command.'

Delnar narrowed his eyes at Harris' odd tone, but left it alone. 'Very well, Captain. I expect a progress report in two days. Delnar out.'

His face vanished, leaving Harris pondering for a moment on the information, before he leant forward and pressed a key on the desk. 'Commander Riker and Commander Data to the ready room please.'

There was a minute's pause, and then the door slid aside to admit Riker and Data. Harris did not know the android well enough to judge his expression, but Riker looked troubled. 'Commanders, I have some news.'

'About Captain Picard?' asked Riker hopefully. Harris shook his head.

'Regretfully, no,' he replied. 'However, we will be mobilising the fleet shortly. The unidentified ship has been reported to have altered course – for Federation space.'

Riker's breath caught in his throat, and Data looked slightly worried. 'Do we have any information on the ship, Captain?' asked the android.

'No, but that is why I've summoned you. We now have a visual record of the ship from our contact in the Romulan High Command. I want you to take the data, Commander, and research the archives for a briefing to be delivered to the fleet captains and the senior staff at 1500 tomorrow.' Harris picked up a datacard and tossed it to the android.

'That'll be all, gentlemen,' said Harris. Stiffly Riker turned and left, Data hurrying after him.

Harris turned and contemplated the stars. It might be a difficult job, carrying the _Enterprise_ senior staff. He was certain that he could count on Hedly, and Truper, and possibly Data as well, but the senior staff itself would be very difficult to penetrate. But he didn't need them.

Not for much longer, anyway.

'Data,' said Riker as soon as the door closed behind them. 'With me.'

'Sir?' The android followed Riker up to the aft section of the bridge, and stopped beside him when they reached a science console. Riker turned, and took the datacard from Data's unresisting grasp, but that did at least elicit a frown from Data. 'Commander, what are you doing?'

'Data, one of the first rules of shipboard politics,' said Riker without lifting his eyes from the console, 'is never to ask the second in command of a starship what he is doing when the captain's back is turned.'

'Sir?' Now Data was thoroughly confused. The _Enterprise_ had always been a non-event with regard to politicking, due to the immense loyalty that Picard commanded, and to see one of his closest friends going behind the captain's back with anything was a shock.

'Captain Harris is attempting to cut me out of the equation,' said Riker. 'I don't intend to let him.' He accessed the datacard and brought up the image on the screen before him.

When he saw the ship, his blood froze in horror. He recognised this ship, the description and with his own eyes. This single image might carry death for the entire quadrant if not stopped. He handed the datacard back to Data, praying that what he had seen was not true. But, when Data saw what was on the screen, he gasped in horror and Riker knew that their worst nightmare had truly returned.

'Data, you'd better get on with your briefing,' Riker said at last, when he felt he could trust his voice. 'From that picture, the captains of those ships out there need to know everything that you can find out. I'm not about to walk blindfold back into that situation.'

Data nodded. 'I agree completely.' With that, he was gone.

Riker remained for a moment, stood rigid by the console, remembering all the pain and death that had been wrought upon them and their captain by the minds that inhabited this ship and had sworn their undying hatred for all other life and written it in fire across the stars. It was too soon for this – far too soon….

Admiral Delnar stared silently at the map before him, not seeing what was displayed before him. Instead, his mind was cast back to a conversation he had a year before with Captain Harris….

'Captain, this little taskforce is to meet the Dominion representative from Cardassia. His name's Eyak.'

Harris turned and stared from the window at the four ships arrayed before him. Behind him, Delnar watched his expression carefully. After a moment, Harris nodded, his face satisfied. 'Some good ships.'

Delnar shrugged noncommittally. 'After the disaster at Chin'toka, we don't have much else to send. Captain Sisko was to take command of this force – he's dealt with the Vorta more extensively than most others – but since the _Defiant_ was destroyed, he doesn't have a ship any longer. Starfleet recommended you.'

'I'm honoured,' said Harris. He turned to face Delnar again. 'What exactly is the mission?'

'Starfleet knows that we suffered a heavy defeat at Chin'toka. That, combined with the attack on Earth, has shaken the Admiralty quite badly, and we're sending out peace feelers to the Dominion in the hope that we can stop the conflict before it gets any worse.'

Harris narrowed his eyes. 'We lost one battle. The Dominion's been steadily pushed back over the last year. Now the Admiralty's going to throw that away because of one defeat?'

'Come on, Ian,' said Delnar angrily, 'the Breen have tipped the balance drastically in the Dominion's favour. We haven't got a hope against those energy draining weapons of theirs.'

Harris shook his head and turned away again, his face disgusted. 'I can't believe that we've won any battles in this war with an attitude like that.'

'As I said, the combined factors of the sneak attack on Earth and Chin'toka have led to this decision. Privately, I don't agree with them, but they give the orders in this organisation, and I expect you to follow them.'

Harris stared out the ships before him, before finally nodding. 'I will do my duty,' he said at last.

And he had. Or what he saw as his duty. It was to be expected that the Vorta would arrive with a full escort of Jem'Hadar ships – after all, we were at war. And it would also be expected that the Vorta would be behaving in even more of a triumphant fashion than normal. As far as he was concerned, the Dominion would be negotiating with a defeated power.

Which was where the problem lay. As far as Harris had been concerned, the Federation was still winning the war, and the Dominion was barely staving off defeat, even with their allies in the Breen. And, of course, there had been Legate Damar's recent defection to the Federation.

The two opposite views clashed from the moment the two met. The Dominion had sent their toughest negotiator, the Federation one of their most resolute captains. The Vorta said something wrong once too often.

After the ensuing firefight, six Jem'Hadar ships lay dead in space. The Federation fleet had totally annihilated the Dominion force, having only lost the USS _Fox_. A testament to Harris' inspired tactical command, as it was painted later.

At a time of considerable advance by the Dominion, it was heralded by the media as a great victory. Starfleet had had to grin and bear it, but privately, Harris was viciously castigated by the Admiralty, eventually resulting in his sideways promotion to Fleet Captain. This was a clever move that both allowed Starfleet to congratulate Harris in public, and in private, they were able to take him from his ship and his command and relegate him to the sidelines. Delnar himself had suggested it to Admiral Drayton.

And now, the Admiralty had decided to give Harris command of a starship at one of the most difficult moments in the Federation's history. It seemed some lessons were never learnt. Harris had enough friends and supporters inside the Admiralty and Starfleet in general to swing this chance for him again.

This assignment, though, so soon after a major war….

Delnar knew that there had been little choice. Too many of Starfleet's top of the line captains had been taken out of the running due to their now critical patrol assignments along the borders of the Federation. As with many things, Ben Sisko might have been the best choice to take this mission, but his disappearance after the war's end had ruled that out.

For any mission like this, Picard would have been the automatic choice. Indeed, for so many years he had been that first choice. His sudden disappearance had come at a bad time.

Or had it? It seemed that for so many of the best captains in Starfleet to have disappeared so close together was very much more than coincidence.

Delnar, like most Andorians, was a great believer in destiny and predetermination of events without simultaneously believing in any form of supreme being. And right now, it seemed to him that something more than simple chance was at work inside the galaxy at the moment.

A chain of events had been set in motion, and no-one could know what would happen until afterward, if ever….

The black ship cruised over the imaginary line of the Neutral Zone, from Romulan to Federation space, a single move which would motivate both sides into alliance once again.

The _G'gerithau_, as per its orders, stopped at that line, continually tracking the ship until it vanished from their long range sensor displays.

In order to avoid detection, the sensors that the Warbird used were not penetrating the ship, but merely brushing its surface like a lover's gentle caress. Thus it was that they did not know the nature of what they faced. They could not see inside the black hull, could not see the power networks that fed a giant superweapon, and an entire population of hibernation chambers.

The hangar bays of the giant ship were laid open for the inspection of all who dared to look into the jaws of hell itself, and everything that the ship hid from the visual aspect of the seeing eye, as opposed to the infra-red and the other arms of modern sensor technology.

But even more surprising than any of these discoveries were the life-forms that they would find inside. They had taken life, they had taken territory and planets, and they had taken everything.

But never before had they taken prisoners.


	4. The Threads Of Destiny

__

Chapter IV

The briefing room was one of the largest in Starfleet, as befitted the flagship of the fleet. Yet it was now packed with the senior bridge crew of the Enterprise, along with the various captains and first officers of the fleet's ships. There was only one seat vacant, that next to Troi. All the others stood in vaguely relaxed stances, talking quietly.

Captain Harris looked up as Riker entered the briefing room of the _Enterprise_. Riker was the last to arrive of the various officers to attend the briefing, apart from Data. He threw a nod in Harris' direction, and took his seat next to Troi. He made his greetings to the other officers in the room with decidedly less reserve, especially the captain of the _Nadesico_, with whom he had served at the Academy. But it was difficult for Riker to take his suspicious eyes from Harris, who seemed to become more cocksure of himself with every day. He could not throw off the feeling that Harris had usurped the seat from its rightful owner.

At that moment, Data entered the room, carrying a briefcase. He nodded to Harris and set the case down onto a small table that was set up beside the small viewer set into the bulkhead. He glanced up at the audience, and began by saying, 'As you are all aware, the unidentified ship will shortly cross over into Federation space from the Neutral Zone. We as yet have no idea of its intentions, and Starfleet has ordered us to make contact with this ship and ascertain its objectives.'

'If not,' interjected Harris, 'we have orders to do all to defend Federation territory.'

Data nodded, his face unchanged. 'That is correct.'

Riker narrowed his eyes, realising that Data had turned off his emotion chip. This was odd, because the android turned his emotion chip on when giving briefings like this, claiming he got more out of the experience that way. It also, perhaps incidentally, gave him a far more fluid and skilful technique for briefings and presentations.

Data turned and activated the screen behind him. On it, a map unfolded and displayed a view of the sector. In the top right corner, the border between the Romulan Empire and the Neutral Zone was displayed, and towards the centre, the border between the Federation and the Zone. Data pressed another key, and a few symbols appeared upon the map. One was the fleet's position, another was the planet Kiros inside the Zone, and the last was the giant ship's course from its first reported point.

Data traced the line of the ship's course. 'The ship travelled along the Neutral Zone after it left Kiros for a distance of thirty light years. We do not why. It has since changed course, and begun heading for Federation space. It should have crossed the border ten minutes ago.'

He activated another function, and the map zoomed in on the Neutral Zone. Now a number of Romulan eagles were depicted following the huge ship. Data pointed to one that was separated from the others by a wide margin. 'A contact in the Romulan government has provided Starfleet with information that a number of Romulan Warbirds have moved to the Neutral Zone border.'

'Would that have been the activity that Starfleet earlier noticed along the border?' asked Captain Nadine of the _Lance_.

Data nodded. 'At the time, it was merely a response to a new ship inside the Zone, but it has now grown into a full-blown warfleet. A single Warbird, the _G'gerithau_, has been tracking the unidentified ship for a significant period of time, according to our contact.'

'The _G'gerithau's_ one of those new generation Warbirds, isn't it?' asked Captain Garstrovicz, who commanded the _Delphi_. Data nodded again.

'Indeed. It is roughly equivalent to a ship such as the _Enterprise_. An interesting statistic, and one that is paraded by the Romulans as often as possible, is that many new generation Warbirds served on the frontlines in the war, but none were ever lost.' There was a slight murmur that ran through the group.

'How many Warbirds are we looking at?' asked Riker.

'Fifteen,' replied Data calmly. The room exploded.

'_Fifteen?_' exclaimed Captain Nadine. 'Where did they get those sort of resources from?'

'It appears that the Romulans held a number of their most powerful ships in reserve during the war,' said Harris calmly. He cast a look around the room, silencing the assembled officers. 'It doesn't matter. The Romulans won't be getting in the way.'

Riker narrowed his eyes again at Harris, and Troi saw it this time. 'Having problems with your eyes?' she asked quietly.

Riker threw her a look, and then shook his head. 'I'm just wondering what our beloved leader is up to.'

Troi smiled slightly at him. 'You're getting paranoid in your old age.'

Riker ignored her, turning his attention back to Data who was speaking again. 'We have one visual record of the unidentified ship, which was provided to us by our contact in the Romulan hierarchy.' He turned, pulled a padd from the case beside him, and pressed a few buttons.

On the viewer, the view of the black ship appeared, eliciting a gasp from a few of the more impressionable members of the small audience, but the most experienced officers remained stonily silent. They were all highly experienced combat veterans, and there was nothing at all in the anonymous view of the dark craft that might disturb them.

Riker knew better, and despite both he and Troi having already seen the picture, as well as the entire senior staff of the _Enterprise_, both of them had still tensed up badly as it had appeared. He glanced at Deanna, who turned and gave him a reassuring smile.

Data went on, 'The ship is fifteen miles in diameter, with a maximum observed speed of warp five. It appears to be unarmed, but is defended by a number of tiny fighter craft, which were able to finish off a damaged Warbird in a matter of moments. As far as we can establish, they are using some form of pulsed energy weapon, somewhat like bird-of-prey disruptor cannons.'

'Have you obtained any information from Starfleet archives?' asked Commander Nasone, of the _Knight_.

'Very little,' replied Data. 'Starfleet reports that the unknown ship is without parallel in the galaxy, as far as we know. We do, however, have some information which might prove to be useful. Starfleet Archives has uncovered a piece of old-style video footage, taken from a Romulan bird-of-prey that was engaged in battle roughly seventy years ago.'

Data pressed another key on the padd, and stood aside to let the others watch the screen.

The grainy footage depicted a group of Romulan starships, ancient ones, attacking one of the giant starships. Red balls of energy were thrown ineffectually at the ship, hammering into a green shield which flashed into being and defended with ease the black hull.

The camera was mounted on one particular ship, as evidenced by the fact that this camera was swooping and diving around the ship, making it difficult to get an idea of how many ships were involved in the fight. 

However, the camera suddenly reeled around after firing another red blast into the ship, with stars spinning across the view, until a group of tiny ships suddenly hove into view, firing into the camera's view. The footage dissolved into static. Data switched it off and glanced back at the audience before continuing.

'That particular piece of footage was recovered by another Romulan fleet four days later. I have no idea how it got into Starfleet's hands.'

'I assume that the ship we will be encountering is the same one,' asked Captain Meredith of the _Nadesico_.

Data shook his head. 'No. The Romulan fleet that recovered the footage you have just seen found nothing except wreckage, most from an unidentified source, but not having belonged to any Romulan ship. I think that we can rule out the possibility of this ship being the same one.'

'Then where's it come from?' asked Troi.

'The Romulan contact has provided us with some information on that as well,' replied Data. 'Although he cannot give conclusive evidence as to how the ship managed to get there, he states that the unidentified ship originated from Kiros. The Warbird that was destroyed was part of a small force that was investigating the loss of a science ship over Kiros.'

'The Romulans are conducting science missions in the Neutral Zone without the Federation's consent?' asked Geordi incredulously. Data nodded affirmatively.

'Yes. The Federation Council is looking into the matter.'

'That's not our concern,' said Harris quietly. 'This ship is what's important.'

Captain Meredith spoke again, this time to Harris himself. 'Sir, I'm not sure as to what the fleet's role will be in this mission. So far, all that we've heard is supposition, with a few fragments of information scattered around from a Romulan contact. I'm not impressed. No offence,' she added, looking at Data with a smile. Data nodded slightly.

Harris also nodded. 'I appreciate the point, Captain, but the fact is we have very little information to go on. The unidentified ship is a complete unknown to us, and Starfleet has given us orders to intercept and ascertain its objectives, as you know. What Starfleet wants is an idea of the ship's capabilities, and the level of threat that it poses to the Federation. Then, we'll see.'

'So why such a large taskforce?' asked Captain Nadine. 'Wouldn't a single ship be better?'

Harris didn't answer that question directly. 'All I can say is that the fleet will be departing in three hours, to intercept the alien ship. At that point, we'll know much better what we'll be doing.' He glanced at Data. 'Commander Data has your deployment orders. Dismissed.'

As the others all moved towards Data in order to receive the padds that he passed around containing their orders, Riker and Troi glanced at each other, puzzled. Troi spoke first. 'Shouldn't that be your responsibility?' she asked.

Riker nodded. 'First officer of the command ship is the one to prepare the deployment orders for the rest of the fleet.' He frowned. 'But that's not what's bothering me.'

Troi turned a frown of her own onto him. 'What is, then?'

Riker looked at her, and his eyes were troubled. 'I have the strangest feeling that I've seen the video footage before.'

'That's impossible.'

Riker nodded. 'I know. But I also knew what was going to happen before it did. Like it or not, I knew what was happening in that film all the way….'

Slowly, he came back to himself. Too much time spent running from place to place with no direction, in self or ship.

He levered himself up to the console from the seat in which he had now been slumped for nearly two weeks. In occasional fits of lucidity, he would stagger to the replicator and force a mouthful of food into his dry mouth, and a few drinks of water. Never anything more. He was dehydrated, starved, and broken in spirit and body.

Strange for such a thing to happen, he thought idly. He didn't know what he was doing. He had no purpose, no drive. For one of the first times in his life, he was listless, cast adrift on the shore of life.

And why?

Because he could not remember the most important part of his life. Once, he had had some memories of that time, but they were false, he knew, implanted there to cover something.

Something terrible, he believed. It had to be, for his crew, his friends to betray him and lie to his face for so long. But why?

At least the hallucinations had stopped.

Well, all but one.

There was still the face of the woman unknown, hovering in his vision. What had he done for her love?

What had he done to provoke her continuous reappearance?

He delved into his memories, dug into that blank patch of recollection that should have resurrected what he had done, sought out -

He slowly surfaced again from the black.

Crashing waves of memory had overwhelmed that temporary moment of sanity, blackness had swamped him once again, and plunged him, drowning, into the depths of his sorrow.

He had thought on what his problems were, and had been immediately forced back into them. It was a wild horror that he endured, and still he did not know why he was still alive. If his mind had had its way, he would have been dead long before.

So why was he still alive?

And then, with the reasoning that came alongside insanity, he worked it out.

The reason he was still alive was because he had not taken any action to die. He had merely left his body to rot slowly inside the sterile confines of the runabout's interior. Thus, there had to be a deliberate action to taken to end life, for there was something preventing his death.

He did not want life any longer. He did not want or need this pain and self-hatred that life brought to him.

Under the gaze of the stars he had always loved, he stood up and made his way slowly, painfully to the aft compartment of the ship.

The small door that he tried to open refused to budge at first, but he took that to be a sign of his decreasing strength. He yanked on it, and pulled the door down. His eyes alighted on the object of his quest.

He reached in, and removed a phaser from the grey protective covering that kept it from damage. He set it to its highest setting.

For a moment, he did nothing. He raised his head up, looking through the runabout's hull at the stars, and said his farewells to his friends, and to all whom he had known. The past had become too painful to live with, and the future was too bleak to continue with.

Thus, he raised the phaser slowly, in that last movement of life, and said goodbye to everything.

And Jean-Luc Picard pressed the trigger.

A hand came around and blocked the phaser beam as it lanced out from the weapon. The orange glow burnt against the limb for a moment before vanishing as Picard let go of the phaser in shock. It dropped to the deck with a clatter, unheeded.

Picard stared for a moment at the apparition. 'Q!'

The other nodded to the human in greeting. 'Jean-Luc.' His gaze flickered to the phaser that rested between them. He picked it up and examined the setting. His eyes rested on Picard again, who was staring with his mouth open like a drowning fish. 'This was on kill, Jean-Luc. I hope you're not going to try killing yourself again. It makes my existence so difficult.'

'Q!' spluttered Picard again. 'What are you doing here?'

'Saving your life,' replied the omnipotent being mildly. For once, Q didn't seem his normal facetious, unhelpful self. 'I can't have you going around committing suicide on me, not now.'

Picard tried to come to terms with Q's sudden appearance, tried to see why he had blocked the beam which would have ended all of his problems forever. Q smiled at him, knowing his thoughts, even without reading his mind. In any case, Picard's state of mind at the moment was not conducive to mind-reading of any sort. 'I can't let you take such an easy way out,' he said eventually. Picard thought that there might be some kind of regret in that normally cold voice. Q turned to look out at the stars. 'There is too much yet to be done.'

Picard stared at Q, fighting to get his bearings for the first time in several weeks. He had allowed his mind to drift too far now, he realised. It was almost impossible for his mind to return to some of its former strength.

__

Almost impossible, but not absolutely.

Picard forced his mind towards Q, staring with a measure of his old force of will at the super-being. 'What are you talking about, Q? Why have you appeared now of all times?'

Q turned to face Picard again, a soupçon of respect entering his eyes again. 'Returned to yourself? Good.' He sighed and plonked himself down in one of the chairs. He looked up at Picard. 'You are entering the most critical phase of your life,' he said.

Picard raised an eyebrow slightly. 'The most critical phase of my life?'

Q nodded. 'The path that you tread is a dangerous one, but it is one that has been laid out for you for millennia before you were born. It is also one that all humanity will take one day, far in the future.'

Picard sat down, openly sceptical now. For the first time in weeks, he felt fully in control of himself. The sensation of having his own mind fully under his own conscious control was a welcome feeling, and one that he revelled in. 'Q, you're not making sense,' he said, seeking, obliquely, Q's point. Asking direct questions was not a successful technique with Q, he knew from bitter experience. 'I don't –'

Q shook his head, still smiling. It seemed to Picard that he was almost in a benevolent mood, as he gazed at the human sympathetically. 'I don't expect you to, Jean-Luc. The way ahead is difficult, but I'm sure that you have it within you to impress us all.'

He peered closely at Picard, and an expression of – could it be wonder? – crossed his face. 'Incredible,' he said quietly. Picard frowned at the surprising word coming from one such as Q, who had the entirety of reality at his fingertips, as well as infinite time in which to explore it. Q's gaze travelled quickly around Picard's body. 'To see the threads drawing around you like this is… almost unbelievable. I had always hoped to see it happening at least once and now that it is….' Q shook his head. 'They're all spiralling around you like a whirlpool now.'

'What?' asked Picard, almost panicked by Q's attitude.

Q smiled. 'If only you could see. You'll know, soon enough.' With a single smooth motion, he vanished in a blaze of light, leaving Picard stunned, angered and deeply worried. However, he didn't have the time to worry.

An alarm blared, attracting the captain's attention to the console. Feeling better than he had for days, even with Q's baffling appearance left unexplained, Picard sat at the console and activated the displays. He glanced at the port screen, trying to work out what had set the alarm off.

He frowned at the displays, slightly puzzled. All he was reading were high concentrations of phaser energy, but no emission sources, which were what indicated the presence of the firing ships. All that meant was that at sometime in the recent past, a battle of some form had taken place.

A large battle.

Picard pursed his lips in decision, and then programmed a new course into the runabout's computers.

The _Missouri_ emerged back into normal space in a flash of bright light, and Picard, within, saw the reason why there were no longer any emission sources.

In the blackness of the void, with reflected starlight being the only way of pinpointing their location, lay hundreds of wrecked ships.

Picard stared out at these destroyed vessels, stunned by the scale of the carnage. His sensors were picking hundreds of ships, apparently all of the same design, but it was one which he did not recognise.

That itself was cold comfort. The thought that, thankfully, they had not been Federation, Klingon or Romulan ships flitted through his mind, but was quickly replaced by the feeling of ancient, so very human, horror, at walking through a giant graveyard at night.

Picard scanned quickly for lifesigns, but knew instinctively that that search was futile. Still, he had to try. However, as his experience told him he would be, he was unsuccessful.

He stared out again at the graveyard of ships, trying to comprehend the scale of the destruction. A gigantic space battle, but one within Federation space, between combatants that Picard did not recognise.

Although there were many planets in the Federation that even the well-travelled captain of the _Enterprise_ had never visited, he had made a point of knowing which of the planets in the Federation had a substantial spaceborne capability outside of Starfleet.

There were few, he knew. None of the older members of the Federation had separate space fleets, and few of the younger members had ever had the capability in the first place. A cynical streak in him had always recognised that part of the reason the Federation acted so quickly to offer membership to any race that broke the light speed barrier was to neutralise any potential threat to its power by giving them the benefits of Starfleet instead.

Only two races Picard knew of had the capability to field any such fleet. Of them, the Ktarians were usually very isolationist, using their fleet to patrol their borders, while the Walirri were a naturally peaceful race.

Besides, both of those planets were hundreds of light-years away. Picard knew that neither of those governments would dare sanction any sort of armed force moving this far into Federation space, even this soon after a massive war.

No, it had to be someone else.

The scanners bleeped again. Picard looked at the screens again, and smiled in satisfaction. The _Missouri_ had picked up another group of ships, this time active, moving away from him at speed. He narrowed his eyes at them, recognising their warp signatures.

These were Lysian ships. The destroyers Picard knew from old, and as he glanced back out at the wreckage around him, he began to notice the telltale signs that gave their identity away.

But he had not known that the Lysians were making any form of military build-up since their war with the Satarrans had ended. And certainly not enough to field a fleet of this size. The Lysian Central Command had an obligation to inform Starfleet and the Federation Council if they were preparing for a military build-up. After all, Lysia was in Federation space.

Picard grinned mirthlessly. That was a good sign of his mind returning to him, he believed. Worrying about the problems of the Federation again….

And then he noticed another symbol on the scanners. Just coming into range, the object was moving slowly away from the fleet that was now obviously pursuing it.

Picard stared at the object for a moment, stunned by its sheer size. It was bigger than the fleet that chased it, and was undoubtedly the ship that had decimated the ships around him. It was… gigantic. There was no other word for it. At times like this, he cursed the inadequacy of his language.

And there was something else, he knew, but what it was, he could not place. The mere image of such a ship (if, indeed, it was a ship) was inspiring his madness into a spirited countersurge against his conscious sanity. Picard shook his head, hoping that the violent motion might stun his madness into quiescent stillness once again –

__

They came for us.

Looming over the fleet, vast and silent, their giant ships slowly cruising through the inky darkness like sharks disturbing the quiet of the innocent shoal of tiny fish, naught but minnows, and defenceless before their vast bulk.

Picard gasped with the force of that memory as he collapsed over the console, struggling to breathe.

Shuddering as the emotions coursed freely through him, filling his mind with the mixed hatred and fear that he felt at the sight of those monstrosities that had faced him with such malevolence, he forced himself back upright.

But his body was no longer his own. As the tides of memory washed afresh through him, his rage burnt anew. His madness reclaimed him, and he could only see the past.

The _Enterprise's_ taskforce waited in space, far from any star. The large flagship was at the centre of an elongated formation of starships, awaiting only the word to go.

To Riker, who watched the ships outside the hull from the empty silence of the briefing room with a vague, uneasy feeling twisting in his gut, the taskforce was almost a stranger to him.

In the four days that they had waited since that first briefing, not one of the other captains had spoken to him. Harris, on the other hand, had been calling them one by one to the ready room for private consultation sessions.

That was all well and good for a starship captain to do, he knew, and it was something that he had seen Picard himself do. For instance, during the Federation blockade against Romulan ships during the Klingon civil war, Picard had done exactly the same with all of the starship captains that he had commanded.

But in that case, Riker had been kept fully informed of what was happening at all times, and the fact that he had also been one of the ship commanders in the fleet at the time had also helped in that respect.

But Harris was ignoring him. Outside of duty hours, and Riker knew that Harris spent little enough time on the bridge, they had barely spoken two words to each other. Riker's own sense of mistrust of the other was leading him down dark paths of imaginative conspiracy theories, and frustration was welling up in him.

'I could feel your mood halfway across the ship,' said a voice, and Riker turned and favoured Troi with a half hearted smile.

'If you could, there's no point telling you that I'm fine,' he replied. He turned back and looked at the stars again as Troi stepped up closer to him.

'What's the matter?'

Riker sighed slightly, and folded his arms. 'Just thinking about the captain, I guess,' he hedged. 'Wondering where he is, why he's doing what he's doing.'

Deanna laid her hand upon his arm gently. 'The captain is trying to sort out his own problems alone. It might be best if you looked closer to home for your own answers.'

Riker reached around without looking and touched Troi's hand. His voice when he spoke was angry. 'I just feel so cut out of everything,' he said. 'The captain didn't feel he could trust me with what he was suffering and what he thought,' he added, 'and Harris is treating me the same way.' He smiled mirthlessly. 'At least I know why _he's_ doing that.'

He turned and Troi could see the anguished pain in Riker's eyes. 'But Captain Picard trusted me with everything at one time. So why, when he needed us all most, couldn't he come and see us? Use our help to try and sort out the problem –'

'What could you have done, Will?' asked Troi frankly. 'What could any of us done for the captain?'

Riker turned away again, distress written across his face. Troi felt her heart ache for him, but she had to let him work his own problems out. She knew that what he felt was greater than what he had admitted to her – she knew him that well. Something else deeper was worrying him, gnawing at his soul, but she also knew that Riker was the obstinate character that wouldn't admit his real problems because he felt that he could solve them himself.

Her hand slipped from his arm.

When Riker turned back to Troi, she had gone.

But he barely had time to think as his commbadge bleeped a moment later. Hedly's voice came through. 'Commander Riker to the bridge.'

Riker emerged onto the bridge to find Harris waiting for him in the command chair. As he made his way down to his position, the fleet captain turned to him. 'Commander, the _Lance_ has picked up weapons fire near the Romulan border.'

'Weapons fire?' Riker frowned as he sat down. 'From Romulan ships?'

'Not as far as we can tell,' replied Harris, turning his attention back to the main screen. 'At the moment, we're not in range to scan.'

Truper turned to Harris. 'All ships await your order, sir.'

Harris nodded, as Truper turned back to his station and Riker looked at him, puzzled. But, before he could ask, Harris said, 'I've decided to mobilise the fleet, Commander. We're going after it.'

There was a long uncomfortable silence as the two protagonists tried to outstare the other. Harris broke first. 'Commander, it _is_ my decision.' Even as he said the words, however, he knew that he had lost the battle.

'Yes, sir,' replied Riker quietly, icily, 'but I am your first officer, and for a decision of this kind, Starfleet protocol requires that you consult me. If you wish for me to no longer be your exec, than that is your prerogative, but I would prefer to be informed beforehand.'

Harris tried a disarming smile. 'Of course I don't want that –'

'Then I respectfully submit,' interrupted Riker, his tone far from being respectful, 'that the captain should communicate with his first officer in order to prevent this sort of thing happening again.'

Harris paused for a moment as he looked at Riker's icy expression and his cold eyes. Then he nodded at the first officer. 'Very well, commander, I accept your position. I stand corrected,' he added, raising a surprised expression from Riker, who had not expected the other man to back down so easily.

Riker held the gaze a moment longer, and then turned away to stare at the back of Truper's head. 'I'm glad.'

Harris stared at Riker a moment longer as well, before turning his face to the screen. 'Lieutenant Truper, set course towards the Neutral Zone border. Maximum warp. Order the fleet to follow. Commander Hedly, go to fleetwide yellow alert.'

'Course laid in, sir,' replied Truper, his voice neutral.

'Engage.'

The _Enterprise_, accompanied by her retinue, turned with sublime grace on her axis towards a new bearing, and pushed herself through the veil of space into warp speed.

The _Enterprise_ taskforce was still a good distance from its destination when Data spoke, his voice puzzled. 'Captain, my sensors read that the weapons fire is definitely not of Romulan origin.' He turned in his seat to face the others, confusion written across his expression. 'By all indication, the ships out there are Lysian and Satarran vessels.'

Harris face clouded. 'Don't tell me that we're about to walk into the middle of another flare-up between those two.'

'I cannot be certain, sir,' said Data, returning his attention to his console. 'They do not appear to firing at each other, but I am reading a great deal of battle debris and energy emissions such as those from damaged warp cores.'

'Do your sensors indicate the presence of any other ships?' asked Riker.

Data hesitated for a moment. When he spoke next, his voice sounded forced. 'Sir, my sensors cannot provide a definite answer.'

Riker stood slowly and went to Data's side, dimly aware that he had never heard Data speak in such a tone before. Harris watched hawkishly. 'What's the problem, Data?'

'Sir, I am reading a gigantic power source,' replied Data quietly, not taking his eyes from his board. 'It is far too big to be part of a ship, but there appear to be a number of discrepancies.'

Riker frowned. 'Discrepancies? Such as?'

'It is moving at a considerable speed,' said Data, 'at 0.7 of light speed, sir, if the instruments are correct.'

Riker gave Data a severe look. 'Why are you doubting your instruments so much, Data?' he asked, lending his tone a weight of authority that had not been present before, letting the android know that he was asking the question now as a commanding officer rather than a friend.

Data responded accordingly, as Riker knew he would. 'Commander, much of what has happened in the last few weeks has led me to try and back up my suspicions and thoughts before exposing them to command level scrutiny. I am merely trying to ascertain what my sensors read for certain before I trouble either you or the captain.'

Riker stared at the back of Data's head for a long moment before he nodded slowly. 'Very well, Mr Data; try to confirm your sensor readings and report immediately once you have done. '

Data nodded without answering. Riker turned away to face Harris and started to resume his seat. However, before he could do so, Hedly spoke, her face almost alarmed. 'Captain, I have confirmed the identity of the ships involved. They are Lysian and Satarran ships.' Riker and Harris glanced at each other, both thinking the same thoughts. But, before either of them could give the order to turn back and not get involved, Hedly gasped. 'Sir! I've just picked up another two weapon signatures.'

'Identity?' asked Harris.

'One is unidentified, sir,' replied Hedly, 'but the other is… Starfleet.'

That jolted both of the senior officers from their seats to turn and stare at the security officer. 'Are you certain?' asked Riker.

Hedly nodded, her face pale. 'One of the signatures is definitely from a Starfleet phaser array.'

'Give me a tactical view of the battle,' ordered Harris. 'Main screen.'

'Aye, sir.' The screen flickered and resolved into a view of the battle before them, displayed on a tactical grid of pale yellow lines, and with ships indicated by small symbols. The lone Starfleet delta moved amidst the swirl of Lysian and Satarran markers, sometimes retreating, but more often than not darting towards the largest mark, a giant question mark that was also the centre of the combined fleet's activity.

'That tears it,' murmured Troi, her face worried.

'Captain,' said Data urgently, 'our sensors report a large number of tiny powered craft amidst the other larger ships. They appear to be some form of fighter screen.'

'Who's winning?' asked Harris, his voice calm.

'Hard to tell, sir,' replied Hedly. 'There appear to be a number of destroyed ships, impossible to tell whose from this range.' She looked up at the back of Harris' head. 'However, from the tactical positions involved, it appears that the unidentified ships are easily holding their own.'

'Sir, if this is a purely internal matter for the Lysians and the Satarrans, we cannot interfere,' Riker said quietly.

Harris gave him a look of slight surprise. 'I understand that, commander. However, our orders from Starfleet are to identify and make contact with these unidentified ships.' Harris turned his attention back to the viewscreen. 'Besides, if we do enter that fray, and it proves to be an internal affair, we can withdraw with our pride intact because of that Starfleet ship. If that is genuinely a Starfleet vessel, we are obliged to retrieve it from the combat situation.'

Harris' quiet authority carried the day. As he glanced around the bridge, he received confident, trusting looks from the crew. Riker watched as well, trepidation well hidden by his mask of quiet acceptance. Harris nodded, half to himself, and resumed his place. 'Lieutenant Truper,' he said, 'set course and order the fleet to assume attack formation and go to red alert.'

Truper did so, turned to face the fleet captain. 'All ships awaiting your order, captain.' His voice was strong, unwavering as he readied the ship for war.

Harris smiled slightly, avoided looking at Riker. 'Take us in, Mr. Truper.'

The _Enterprise_ and her retinue appeared suddenly in the midst of the battle like a giant wave on an already busy shore. It only took a moment for the crews of the Starfleet vessels to realise that they had waded into something that was far, far more than a simple territorial battle between two smaller powers.

Around the Starfleet ships, some pulling away to avoid collisions with the fighting ships, were hundreds of smaller vessels. Satarran heavy cruisers escorted smaller Lysian destroyers in firing bolts of blue and green energy at their enemy.

This enemy took the shape of literally a swarm of tiny fighter vessels, which flitted around the far larger vessels. However, these tiny fighters belied themselves by firing blasts of green energy into the Satarran and Lysian ships, small beams which rent huge gouges in the hull of the much larger ships. It was obvious to the sensors of the Federation ships that the conflict had been raging for some time now, and that the Lysian/Satarran alliance was on its knees, despite its tactically superior position.

Harris came to his feet slowly and stared for a moment at the carnage before the Federation fleet. 'How is the Lysian fleet holding out?' he asked.

Data answered, 'Badly, sir. It appears that they have lost a good twenty percent of their fleet, and the survivors are badly damaged. It appears only a matter of time before their enemy will break free from the encirclement.'

Harris nodded, his face becoming tight. 'And the state of the enemy?'

Data shrugged. 'Unknown, sir,' he said. 'Although a number of the smaller craft have been destroyed, the status of that –' He waved a hand almost vacantly at the scene before them '- cannot be properly ascertained.'

__

That was the giant, looming, overpowering presence of the vast black ship. It dominated the battle scene, silent, barely moving, eclipsing the stars like a giant hand blocking out the light of the sun. Around it flitted the shapes of the tiny fighters, looking for all the world like a swarm of wasps protecting their nesting place. However, their stings were far more deadly than any wasp's.

'Can you give any sort of idea as to their status at all, Data?' asked Riker, his eyes fixed on the small fighter craft. Their surprise entrance had led to a lull in the fighting, but it was sure to blaze up anew once the Lysians, Satarrans and their unidentified enemy slotted the taskforce into their view of things. Already, the first officer could hear the cheers of the beleaguered alliance crews as they believed their salvation had come to deliver them. It was, however, debatable as to which way Harris would sway – whether or not he would intervene in the fight or merely try to rescue the Starfleet vessel caught in the middle.

Which could lead to problems either way.

Data shook his head helplessly once again at the question Riker had asked. 'Sir,' he said, his voice finally carrying frustration at being asked the same question over and again, 'I cannot tell you what is normal for that ship, let alone what is abnormal. It is an _unknown_.'

Harris interceded, perhaps himself annoyed by the lack of answers. 'Very well, Mr Data. Try and find that Starfleet –'

A shock ran through the _Enterprise_, catching them all by surprise, and making Hedly, Riker and Harris stumble. 'Report,' ordered Harris, cutting himself off.

'We have been fired upon by a group of the fighter craft,' replied Hedly immediately. 'No damage to shields. The taskforce is taking up covering positions, and the _Nadesico_ is requesting permission to fire.'

'Order all ships to stand by,' said Harris. 'Try to get a signal through to the Lysian commanders and order them to cease the fighting.'

'Sir, what about the unidentified ships?' asked Riker.

'We'll leave them for the moment; we need to get the Lysians and the Satarrans to stop firing first, so we can try and establish some sort of dialogue. However,' he added shrewdly, 'the taskforce has permission to force away those attacking fighters using appropriate methods. The _Enterprise_ will stay out of the fighting until I give the order.'

'Understood,' said Riker, issuing the commands to the taskforce.

The eight ships surrounding the _Enterprise_ angled themselves away from their flagship into more open conditions. As the _Enterprise_ swept forward into the midst of battle, her retinue dogged her every move, watching cautiously for hostile activity. But none was forthcoming. The fighters surrounding the Lysian fleet backed off as they watched the Starfleet force approach, either skirting around them or pulling closer towards the immense black hull. The Lysian and Satarran fleets also ceased firing, partially because the _Enterprise_ and her force had interposed themselves between the combatants.

The intervention of the Starfleet force had already imposed a strange sort of silent truce on the battle. As the taskforce forced its way into the morass of ships, pushing them apart by the sheer size of their ships, all shooting ceased.

Harris gazed at the screen, his face quietly satisfied. 'Very good, Mr. Truper,' he said. 'The right course at the right time works wonders.'

'Thank you, sir.'

Harris glanced at Riker. 'It would appear that the Lysians and the Satarrans aren't so eager to fight when Starfleet's around,' he remarked, a faint smile upon his lips.

'No,' remarked Riker diplomatically. 'Then again, I don't know exactly how much influence Starfleet's finest will have on those ships,' he added, indicating the small fighters.

Harris nodded, returning his attention to the screen. 'Still, we had better take the opportunity for what it is.' He stepped forward, rested his hand on the headrest of Data's seat and said, 'Open hailing frequencies to all ships.'

'Hailing frequencies open,' confirmed Hedly.

'This is Fleet Captain Ian Harris of the USS _Enterprise_ to all combatants. You are in violation of Federation law regarding neutral space. By order of Starfleet, power down all weapons systems and explain your actions.'

'We're receiving a reply,' said Hedly moments later. 'Lysian captain Damlyi.'

A humanoid face appeared on the _Enterprise's_ viewscreen, greenish light playing across vaguely reptilian features. 'This is fleet commander Damlyi. _Enterprise_, we are in dire trouble and desperately need your assistance.'

The Lysian's voice was flat and uninflected, but that was how all Lysians spoke, and behind the words was the look in his eyes. He had seen hell.

'Fleet commander,' replied Harris, 'I cannot just commit a Federation taskforce to battle without knowing the nature of the conflict.'

The Lysian's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Do you mean that you have come here not knowing of this ship and the hell it has brought to the Lysian and Satarran peoples?'

It was Harris' turn to look confused. 'I know nothing –'

'That hellspawned vessel out there has destroyed three colony worlds inside our borders, new colonies formed after our truce with the Satarrans! We have been sending signals of distress for three weeks now, and nothing has come until now.' Damlyi paused, anger written across normally placid features. 'Has not the Federation heeded our cries?'

Riker looked at Harris, but confusion had struck Harris dumb as well. 'Fleet commander, I have no idea what you are talking about. To the best of my knowledge, no Federation vessel or starbase has been alerted to your situation. I am here with the express intention of discovering the purpose of that unidentified ship.'

'_The purpose,' _screamed Damlyi suddenly, 'of that _ship_ is to wipe out Lysia and Satarra! I demand that your taskforce assist my fleet! With your firepower, we could win this battle!'

Harris' eyes flashed angrily. 'I do not appreciate being dictated to, commander. I need to consult with my superiors before I can take this taskforce into what appears to be a battle with no relation to the Federation.'

Damlyi eyed Harris for a moment. 'Very well,' he said eventually. 'Consult if you wish. But I am going to continue in this battle. In five minutes, if you have not made a decision by then, we will attack, with or without you.'

The screen blanked out, and Harris turned back to Riker, faint disbelief on his expression. 'There's no reasoning with some people.'

Riker looked at Harris owlishly for a moment, stunned by his casual reaction. 'Sir, the Lysians obviously think that we are here to support their fleet. From what we can see –'

'What I can see,' interrupted Harris, 'is an opportunity.'

'How so?' asked Riker, his tone just short of respectful.

'Starfleet has assigned us to find out more information about this ship, Commander,' said Harris. 'What better way to carry out a threat assessment than in battle?'

Riker stared at Harris, disbelief shining brightly in his eyes. _What was this man trying to do to the _Enterprise? But, before he could voice his objections, Harris had turned to Hedly. 'Commander, full encryption on this transmission. Patch me through to all taskforce ships.'

Hedly nodded, and performed the task quickly. She glanced back up at Harris a moment later. 'Hailing frequencies open.'

'This is Captain Harris to all ships. Prepare to engage the enemy. All ships wait for their attack orders from Commander Hedly, but do not begin pre-attack manoeuvring until you have been given my personal clearance. _Enterprise_ out.'

Harris turned away from the security for a moment to throw a glance at Riker, who had tensed up, fists clenched. He threw a faint glance at the first officer, a faint unreadable glance, but one that convinced Riker of one thing.

Harris meant trouble.

'We'll let the Lysians advance first, watch the deployment of enemy ships, and then launch an attack at their weakest point,' said Harris to Hedly.

Data turned in his seat and stared for a moment at Harris before speaking. 'Captain, it is highly unethical to use such a weakened force as your shock troops.'

'My instructions are clear, Mr. Data,' replied Harris equably. 'If you cannot follow orders from your captain, then I suggest you vacate the seat and let someone else take your place.'

Data stared at the human for a moment, before he silently turned, stood and left the bridge.

Harris and Riker both watched him go, both wearing expressions that were completely opposite to the other's. Where Harris' was pleased and satisfied, almost triumphant, Riker's was horrified and stunned. Harris nodded to himself and turned to face the viewscreen. 'Commander Hedly, order the next duty officer to the bridge immediately.'

Hedly hesitated a moment, and glanced at Riker before nodding. 'Aye, sir.' Her voice was just slightly off, Riker noted.

Stunned silence now reigned through the bridge. As the new duty officer took his station, none the wiser for what had just taken place, the bridge attempted to recompose itself for battle.

'Harris to all ships,' came the captain's voice. 'Prepare to engage.'

The Lysians swept forward in a great crescent, none hanging back from the giant ships, despite their earlier beating. Seconds later, green energy lanced into the black vessels.

The invaders were not slow to react to this assault. Within moments of the first shot being fired, the fighter planes swept forward again, ripping into the Lysian formation. Seconds after that, the whole organised attack had broken down into a series of small dogfights, none of which the Lysians were winning.

Behind the battle, the Starfleet vessels waited silently, serene and peaceful, watching the madness unfold before them in green and blue energy.

But not for long. The attack planes had waded into the midst of the pack of Lysians, firing indiscriminately, while the huge vessel in the background remained out of reach.

But then the _Enterprise_ made her move. All at once, without warning, the entire taskforce leapt forward at full speed, bearing down past the beleaguered Lysians that were holding up the attack planes at the cost of their lives, and zeroing in on the black monstrosity that lurked in the background; the ship which waited silently as they approached, as if it had not noticed them.

The taskforce charged forward in a precise formation, locking on their weapons' systems as they did so. Confidence brimmed in the hearts of the officers crewing those ships as what seemed to be an undefended target, caught unawares, lay before them.

Phaser beams lanced out at one hundred thousand kilometres, aiming for the hull of the dark giant. As the starships flew by the ship, the beams of phased energy crashed into a green field of energy, repulsed in seconds and almost without flinching.

Harris watched the proceedings of the first strike with calm detachment, resting one elbow on the arm of his command chair as he watched the taskforce come around for another pass. He was confident that the huge ship was unarmed, and incapable of defending itself if the escorting wing of attack fighters could be distracted.

But his calm demeanour was suddenly cracked a moment later when Hedly suddenly said, 'Captain Harris, we're picking up some unusual energy pulses coming from the target ship.'

'Energy pulses?' said Harris, frowning, and turning to look at the tactical officer. 'How do you mean -?'

Blue fire streaked from the suddenly awoken giant, slamming into the _Delphi_ and the _Enterprise_ without any warning. Their shields bore the brunt of the attack stolidly, but the two starships lurched wildly.

The bridge of the _Enterprise_ suddenly jumped two full metres, casting Hedly to her feet and throwing Truper from his console, although he clung on grimly to the edge of his seat, laid flat out on the floor.

Slowly, the ship righted itself, and Harris yelled, 'Report!'

It was at that point that Riker noticed that the sounds around him were muffled, dim. He put a hand to his ear. When he brought it away, his palm was bright with blood, trickling from his ears. The first officer had not realised that such a massive concussion was possible, especially not with energy shielding around the target vessel.

Hedly had struggled to her feet, and fought to produce a situation report from her unresponsive controls. 'Sir, the main computer has been damaged! I can't get a response from it!'

'Helm is sluggish, sir,' called Truper. 'It appears that navigational thrusters are offline, as well as primary impulse engines!'

Harris stared, disbelievingly, at the chaos around him, unable to believe that a single shot had done so much damage to so many critical systems. 'What did they do?'

More shots flashed from the black vessel, hitting the _Delphi_ again as it struggled to evade. However, it's stronger shielding afforded it more protection than the _Enterprise_, which was coming under increased fire.

Captain Gastrovicz of the _Delphi _watched as his powerful starship, his pride and joy, began to respond again to the attack on it. It evaded the last shots, turned and headed back for the fray, bloodied but unafraid.

'Report,' ordered Gastrovicz.

His tactical officer responded. 'Sir, our shields are down thirty-five percent, but are regenerating fast. All systems are functioning normally.' Another signal caught his eye. He looked at Gastrovicz. 'Sir, the enemy ship is concentrating its fire on the _Enterprise_.'

'On screen.' Gastrovicz turned and looked at the scene. Shot after shot poured towards the _Enterprise_, which took each hit on its shields unflinchingly. `Status of the flagship?'

`Sir, they appear to be losing power to the main computer systems, but their shields are still holding. Some of the energy from the blasts is getting through the shields.'

`Where is the taskforce?'

`They are forming up around us.'

`We need to go in and defend the _Enterprise_,' said Gastrovicz. `Order all ships to attack the enemy target.'

The taskforce lunged again, photon torpedoes and phaser beams directed at the giant ship. But not one got through.

The green shield blocked them all with ease, and, in response, blue fire spat towards the taskforce, forgetting the _Enterprise_.

The ships split up to evade the enemy fire, but one was not lucky. The _Nadesico_ was slightly too slow and a blast caught it amidships. In a single moment, the shields collapsed and the starship lurched to a halt.

But the others had not noticed this, caught up as they were in the defence of the _Enterprise_. The taskforce surrounded the stricken flagship, returning fire on the giant ship which defied their efforts to make an impact on it.

`Sir, the taskforce is blocking the enemy fire,' said Hedly, her voice showing her relief.

Harris smiled. `Can we pull away from the battle, Mr Truper?'

`Yes, sir. Secondary impulse engines are now online.'

`Engage. Order the taskforce to withdraw.'

`All ships acknowledge, sir -' Hedly's face suddenly paled. `Sir, the _Nadesico_!'

Riker felt cold sweep through his body, suddenly realising what Hedly meant. `Put the _Nadesico_ on screen!'

The viewer flickered, and there, before them all, was a horror.

The proud starship _Nadesico_ hung motionless in space as blast after blast of energy smashed into her undefended hull. As the onlookers watched, a shot hit her lower saucer section and punched its way through to the upper hull.

The _Nadesico_ reeled away from the impact, revealing the true impact of the devastation that must have been raging within her hull, and slowly began to spin, dead, a hulk in space. Fire burnt into space, using up the last of the oxygen in the starship in a final immolation, and then, suddenly, she went dark and still.

`Status of the _Nadesico_?' asked Harris, unnecessarily.

`All power systems are offline,' said Hedly, `life support is down, and there are no life signs aboard her.'

`We can't do anything for her,' said Truper quietly.

Harris shook his head angrily. `No, we can't, Lieutenant. And we have a responsibility to another Starfleet vessel.'

He turned to look at Hedly, whose face was still worried. `Sir, I can't locate the runabout.'

`What do you mean? Is it destroyed?'

Hedly shook her head, paused a moment, and then shrugged. `There's no way to tell. In all of the confusion with the Lysians, I lost track of it. It's simply vanished, and there's no way of distinguishing a warp trail amid the debris of the battle. I'm sorry, sir.'

Riker sagged into his seat, despair on his face, as Harris said, quietly, `Very well, commander. Thank you for trying.'

`Sir, the Lysian fleet is withdrawing from the combat area,' said Truper.

`Try to contact them,' ordered Riker. `Maybe we can rebuild some bridges.' He cast a dark look at Harris, who did not meet his gaze.

`They are not responding,' replied Hedly.

`Lieutenant Truper, plot a course away from here,' said Harris abruptly. `I have nothing to say to the Lysian command. Order all ships to follow our course. Engage at warp five.'

The _Enterprise_ turned away from the battle, from the grave of the _Nadesico_, followed by her accompanying starships. She gathered herself almost painfully, and leapt into warp speed.

She left the field to her enemy, victorious again.

The attack planes swept through the debris, heading back towards their mother ship. As they rejoined its vast bulk, flitting around it like wasps around their nest, a piece of what, at first, appeared to be debris started moving.

Suddenly, blue light blazing from its impulse engines, the USS _Missouri_ leapt forward at the fighters, weapons blazing. Caught by surprise, two fighters were blasted to dust before they even realised what was happening. The _Missouri_ pulled through their debris and locked onto another ship.

But, before it could fire again, a beam of blue energy shot from the huge mother ship above, lancing into the runabout. It shuddered to a halt, still encompassed by the beam.

Fighters surrounded the Starfleet vessel as the blue light widened momentarily and then vanished. Almost as if they had been awaiting the signal, the fighters all fired at once and vaporised the _Missouri_ in a brief second.

And then they pulled up and away from the drifting carbonised remnants of the Starfleet vessel, flying back to the huge darkness above them, which waited silently for their return. Within its vast bulk, a mind cried out silently, but with such a piercing quality that it could be heard light years away by those who were able to hear.

And the threads of destiny grew tighter around them all.


	5. Analysis of Defeat

__

Chapter V

Harris sat almost disconsolately in the ready room of the _Enterprise_, unwilling to believe how disastrously his first mission after so long had gone wrong. He stared at the stars streaking past, trying vainly to elicit answers from them.

The door knocker bleeped. `Enter,' said Harris, rousing himself slightly, turning to face the door as it slid open to admit Data and Riker.

`Sir, we've completed the damage assessment and situation report,' said Riker briskly. `Twenty percent of ship's systems have failed, but Geordi is working on them and hopes to have them complete in a few hours.'

`All other ships in the taskforce have sustained damage of some sort,' added Data. `However, the alien vessel appeared to concentrate its fire on us for a significant period. I do not know how they discovered that we are the flagship.'

`They have a remarkable large and powerful vessel, Commander,' replied Harris. `It is more than likely that they simply realised that we were the command ship as we are the largest ship in the taskforce.' He looked more closely at Data. `I apologise, Commander. I was wrong about that ship and about the Lysians. My mistake cost the lives of those officers aboard the _Nadesico_.'

__

And aboard the Lysian ships, thought Riker rebelliously_._ `Apology accepted, Captain,' replied Data, nodding his head.

`And there has been no sign of the USS _Missouri_?' asked Harris.

Riker glanced at Data before answering. `No, sir.'

Harris nodded to himself. `Very well. Bring the fleet out of warp and order all ship commanders to report to the _Enterprise_ briefing room immediately.' He turned to face them. `We need to decide what we're going to do next.'

`How many survivors in the Lysian fleet?'

`Maybe thirty or forty ships from two hundred, sir.'

Neral shook his head worriedly. `That is not good.'

Ratek smiled slightly, acknowledging Neral's understatement. `Agreed, sir.' A question arose. `Sir, what do you wish us to do when the fleet arrives? As yet, we have only been kept on standby for their arrival, and we don't know where to go once they get here.'

Neral pursed his lips. `Commander, what I am about to say comes from my personal authority as Praetor, and not from any command issued by either the Continuing Committee or the Senate. You are not to discuss this with Chairman Koval, Senator Volnar or any other, and that includes the commanders of the other ships in the fleet. You know the procedure.'

Ratek frowned, but also nodded. Although secret orders from individuals were uncommon, they were not unknown, and Ratek had been in this situation before. `I await your command.'

`Very well.'

Ratek stepped onto the bridge, looking somewhat pensive. Relesi stepped away from the console she was working on, and was about to greet him when she saw the expression on his face. `What's wrong?'

Ratek looked at her, and smiled faintly. `Nothing's wrong. At last, nothing's wrong. What is the ETA of the fleet?'

`We received a message from Commander Ibril a few minutes ago. He expects to arrive in one hour.'

`Excellent. When the ships arrive, set course 551 mark 274 and engage at warp six, under cloak. Order the fleet to do the same.'

Relesi frowned. `Sir, that will take us into Federation space.'

`You have your orders,' countered Ratek abruptly. `Carry them out.'

Relesi looked slightly hurt as she responded, `Yes, sir.'

`The alien vessel is moving at approximately warp four on a course of 991 mark 745.' Data turned to face the briefing room assembly. `It appears to be heading away from Federation space and out towards uncharted territory.'

`And it's not made any aggressive moves thus far?' asked Harris.

`No, sir. Indeed, it has stayed well away from any inhabited planets. With regard to their destruction of the planet Kiros, this seems very odd. They obviously have the firepower and the motivation to do great damage to us, but they seem uninterested in doing so.'

`Thank you, Mr Data,' said Harris. He turned to face the others. `The situation is awkward,' he continued. `We cannot damage this ship, and if it heads on its way, it will cease to be a problem for us. However, it is such a significant tactical risk that I cannot safely allow us to either ignore it in the hope it will go away or track it with only one ship.'

`Are we going to pursue it?' asked Captain Nadine.

`My initial thought was yes, but we need to adopt a more flexible approach.' Harris stood and stepped over to the screen, motioning for Data to be seated.

Activating it, he pointed to the starmap that appeared on the screen. Pressing a few more controls, he had the monitor display a number of symbols and some lines criss-crossing the grid. `This line here,' he said, indicating the shortest line leading out of the Romulan Neutral Zone, `is the course of the alien vessel since it left Kiros and entered Federation space.' He indicated a small group of symbols off to one side. `And this is our position, about five light-years away.

`We've extrapolated it's course as far as we can, and it will pass within 30 parsecs of _Deep Space Nine_ as it heads away from Federation space. If it continues along it's present course, it won't enter Bajoran space and we can continue to track it and engage it if necessary.'

Harris turned to the assembly. `I want the _Enterprise_, the _Texas_, the _Lance _and the _Knight _to head for _DS9 _at maximum warp. The rest of the fleet will track it towards _DS9_, keeping just within sensor range, but not close enough to provoke a hostile reaction.'

`When is it expected to reach _DS9_?' asked Captain Nasone.

`In twelve days,' was Harris' reply. `I hope that this will allow us to both keep track of its movements and to be able to prepare a response if it should deviate from its course. Are we clear?'

Everyone nodded an affirmative, and Harris smiled. `Very well. Captain Gastrovicz will take command of the taskforce in my absence. I shall see you at _DS9_ in twelve days.'

The taskforce split up into two sections. As the _Enterprise_ led three starships away and vanished into warp, the rest of the taskforce turned to head towards the alien ship.

Riker watched silently from the briefing room, alone. He was aware of nothing but burning cold anger sweeping through his body, washing his mind, searing his soul.

They had lost their last chance to search for Captain Picard now, due to Harris' preoccupation with stopping this giant ship that had encroached onto Federation space.

And Riker recognised that that had been the correct priority, but was also aware that Harris' decision to attack the alien ship had probably cost Picard his life. One of the great captains of Starfleet, snuffed out in an instant, and just about forgotten.

There would be a reckoning, eventually, but for now, it was easier and more convenient for Starfleet to forget about their greatest, and concentrate on something else.

`Penny for your thoughts?' Riker turned, slightly surprised at the voice coming from behind him, especially as he had never heard the door.

Beverly Crusher stood there, arms crossed, eyes fixed on his. Riker forced a half-hearted smile onto his face for her benefit. `I try not to have them anymore. It interferes with my duty.' He turned back to the glass, bitter inside.

`The captain is right, Will; we need to go after this mystery ship.'

Riker nodded. `I know.'

`Jean-Luc wouldn't want us to abandon our duty.'

Riker snorted. `Duty!' he sneered. `Our duty is to our captain, and that is not Ian Harris.'

`Jean-Luc is gone -'

`No, he _isn't!_' Riker said angrily. `I have yet to see a body - we don't even know if he was on the _Missouri_ during the battle! So, until I do, I will not stop searching for him!'

Crusher paused for a second, and then sat down, seeing the conflicting emotion on Riker's face. `I felt that way when Jack died, you know.'

`Your husband?'

Crusher nodded, her eyes distant. `It was quite some time before the _Stargazer_ returned to Earth for his burial. In between the time of finding out and the funeral, I used to run out little fantasies in my head, that he was coming home and that the communication from Jean-Luc was garbled and _that he was really alive_. And it wasn't until Jean-Luc stood on the porch of my house and looked into my eyes and said, "I'm sorry" that I truly accepted it.'

She stood and looked into Riker's eyes. `I know how you feel, Will, and the rest of us feel the same way. I don't think any of what has happened in such a short space of time has really sunk in yet.' She moved in closer to him. `But what I do know is that we all need time to work things out and to talk. Please, Deanna's getting everyone together in her quarters now. She sent me to find you. Please come.'

Riker stared at Crusher for a long moment, and then nodded. `Lead the way, Doctor.'

Riker and Crusher entered Deanna's quarters to find that the rest of the senior crew, excluding, of course, Harris, had arrived as well. Hedly and Truper stood by the porthole, while Data and Geordi sat in the corner, discussing an engineering issue.

Troi herself smiled when she saw Riker, and stood gracefully to greet him. `Will, I'm sorry that I had to bring you into this the roundabout way.'

Riker nodded. `Why didn't you just call me?'

`I didn't want Captain Harris to be aware this was happening,' replied Troi. `See, I can do shipboard politics too.'

Riker cast a glance at Data, who had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. `It appears that some people cannot keep secrets.'

`And since when have we had secrets from each other?' asked Troi immediately. `Come on, Will, we have never sought to do anything behind each other's backs, and we certainly would never have gone against the captain.'

`I have never gone against the captain,' said Riker quietly, but dangerously.

Troi relented slightly. `I know,' she replied. `But we are in a different situation now, Will.'

`We have to face the possibility that Captain Picard is dead,' said Geordi. `If that's the case, Captain Harris will almost certainly take command of the ship.'

`I will fight that to the last breath,' said Riker. `Do you honestly think that I or any of you could serve happily under him?'

There was silence, and then Hedly said, `Yes, Commander. Like it or not, we are Starfleet officers, and we have a duty to obey the orders of our superiors.'

`But not when those orders are dangerous and likely to put the ship at risk,' said Riker. `Look, he ordered us into the Lysian situation without any knowledge of what might have been happening, and then started playing at tactical exercises which killed a lot of Lysians and lost us the _Nadesico_. Those sort of errors are the ones which would get others court-martialled. It's almost as if someone in Starfleet is trying to protect him.'

`So what can we do except try to work better with him, to work out these problems in the open?' asked Troi.

Riker shook his head. `The man's too stubborn. He won't listen to anything except his own ideas. And he's keeping me out of the loop as well. I haven't spoken to a single person outside this ship in all of the time that we were with the rest of the taskforce.' He paused, and then went on, `Well, I intend to do something about that.'

There was silence for a moment, and then Data said, slightly shocked, `Are you proposing a mutiny?'

Riker shook his head. `I have entertained the idea - lock up Harris and take the _Enterprise_ after Captain Picard. But it would be a futile act, and -'

`Harris to Riker.'

Riker grimaced, but tapped his badge and said, `Go ahead.'

`Commander, we're approaching _DS9_ now. I'd like you to accompany me to the briefing that I'll give when we get there.'

`Understood. I'm on my way.' Riker turned to the others. `I need to go.'

He turned for the door, but as it slid open before him, Troi suddenly said, `What are you planning on doing, Will?'

Riker turned to face her, and for the first time she saw the emotions that were being kept so well hidden. `I don't know, Deanna. I just don't know.' And with that, he left.

__

Deep Space Nine had never been a quiet place at the best of times, and now that the Dominion War was over at last, it had become even more bustling and crowded.

Ships once again regularly travelled through the wormhole, which opened its doors to admit them, free from the dangers of the Gamma Quadrant. Colonel Kira had become an integral part of the Starfleet/Bajoran mechanism that ran _DS9_, but oftentimes she would be found staring from the Promenade windows, looking silently at the wormhole, wondering where Ben Sisko had vanished to.

Too many mysteries had been left unanswered after his disappearance for some though, including Julian Bashir. He was a man who preferred concrete answers and solid truths.

At that moment, he was searching for solid truth in the gene structure of a Bajoran suffering from Tuvan Syndrome, the same thing that he knew Chairman Koval of the Tal Shiar was suffering. This was research sponsored at the highest level of Starfleet, although the true reason was known only to few.

His console bleeped at him. At first, thinking that it was a query that he was running completing, he tried to access it. It was only when the bleep came a second time that he realised that it was a communication. `Bashir here.'

`Julian, you have a private communication coming from Starfleet Command,' came Ezri Dax's voice. `Would you like it putting through?'

`Please do,' replied Bashir. He turned and activated a screen and waited patiently for the message to come through.

When it did, he gave a smile of recognition. `Admiral Drayton, nice to see you.'

Drayton smiled back. `Doctor, the same.'

`What can I do for you?'

`Do you remember what I spoke to you about at the end of the Dominion War? About protecting the Federation's best interests as opposed to those of Starfleet?'

`I think that we might want to converse somewhere more private, Admiral,' replied Bashir after a moment's pause.

`Yes, I thought you might say that.'

Bashir stepped into his quarters, and sealed the door. `Computer, set up a level-two diagnostic of all systems within this room.'

`Specified procedure will last two hours and fifty-five minutes,' replied the computer's voice.

`Proceed. Also, put through communication signal from Starfleet Command with level eight encryption.'

Drayton's dark face appeared on the screen. `Are we ready, Doctor?'

Bashir nodded. `What are your orders, sir?'

`The USS _Enterprise_ will be arriving at _DS9_ within the next twelve hours. Fleet Captain Harris informs me that he intends to wait there and track down the alien ship should it alter its course. He has already sent on the rest of his taskforce to track the mystery ship.'

`Wise,' said Bashir. `How close will it pass to _DS9_?'

`Within 30 parsecs,' replied Drayton, `close enough to allow it to alter course and attack Bajor, or, worse, pass through the wormhole. If it did so, we couldn't track for fear of entering Dominion territory. We don't want to risk another war. I have informed Colonel Kira of the situation, and she agrees that we need to move up to yellow alert for the Bajoran sector.'

Bashir frowned slightly, not understanding what this had to do with him, and his work with the C-in-C so far. `So what do you want me to do?'

`I need you to do a little detective work for me, based on your unique experience….'

`USS _Enterprise_ to _Deep Space Nine_. Requesting permission to dock.'

`Permission granted, _Enterprise_. Welcome to Bajor.'

The _Enterprise_ sailed in towards the arching upper pylons of the space station, leaving its accompanying ships alone in the night.

One of those pylons met the _Enterprise_ amidships as the starship slowed to a halt. A pair of docking clamps gripped the giant ship tightly, while a docking tube mated with the outer airlock.

Harris and Riker stepped off the ship through the cogwheel door that separated the _Enterprise's_ airlock from _DS9's _reception chamber.

Kira and Bashir were waiting for them on the other side. Kira nodded to the two Starfleet officers. `Gentlemen, welcome to _Deep Space Nine_.' She gave a slightly more unofficial look to Riker. `It's good to have you back, Commander.'

`It's nice to be back,' said Riker. `I hope Quark is ready for another fleecing at his Dabo tables.'

`I think that I heard him scream when he knew you were coming aboard,' said Bashir with a grin.

`If you please,' said Harris, `we have a lot to get through before the alien ship arrives in ten days.'

`We have had situation reports from Starfleet Command,' said Kira, as they turned and proceeded down the corridor. `I've ordered the sector to yellow alert, and begun combat drills every four hours.'

Harris nodded. `We don't expect that the ship will alter course to come through here. This is the most heavily defended sector in the quadrant.'

`Nevertheless, Starfleet feels it is best to be prepared,' added Riker. `We daren't let the ship get into the wormhole. There's no telling what the Dominion might do if something that powerful came through, and we certainly don't want to risk them capturing it.'

`Don't worry, it won't get through us.' Kira paused for a moment. `Incidentally, you might like to know that we have some people here who might like to join in….'

The door to the meeting room slid open, and Riker's face brightened up. `Worf!'

`Commander!' Worf jumped up from his seat and gripped Riker hard in a bearhug of ferocious strength. `It is good to see you again!'

`And you too,' Riker wheezed out as Worf released him. `Hell, Worf, it feels like you've broken all my ribs.' He took a look at the Klingon, who was wearing his normal Starfleet uniform, and said, `Ambassadorship suits you.'

`Riding around hunting _targ_ all day is not exactly what I had in mind when I accepted the post,' said Worf. `However, if the Chancellor insists, then I must do my duty.'

`What are you doing here?'

`I was on my way back to Qo'nos from Ferenginar when we received a communiqué from Starfleet about the mystery ship. They asked my ship to rendezvous with you here and lend our support in finding out what this ship is. The High Council believes that the ship could easily be a threat to our interests and so Chancellor Martok agreed to it.'

`What's your ship? I didn't see it docked,' asked Riker.

`It's not,' said Worf. `It's cloaked near the wormhole. We theorise that it may be possible to disguise our cloaking device's energy spike if we decloak near the wormhole, and _DS9_ volunteered to help us run tests. It would allow us to decloak our ships near a neutrino source and not be detected until we opened fire.'

`That would be a significant tactical advantage,' commented Harris, who had entered the room after Riker and taken a seat at the other end of the table.

Worf turned and nodded to Harris. `Yes, Captain.'

Riker motioned to Harris. `Worf, this is Fleet Captain Ian Harris. He's taken command of the _Enterprise_ in Captain Picard's absence.'

`A pleasure,' said Worf. He threw a glance at Riker, to which the first officer merely raised an eyebrow.

The others took their seats. At the table were the officers from the _Enterprise_, Worf, Kira and Bashir. `We're going to be joined -' began Kira, but was interrupted by the door opening.

Another Starfleet officer stepped into the room, looking slightly nervously at those around him. Kira smiled at him. `This is Lieutenant-Commander Stent,' she said. `He's the new tactical officer.'

She leaned over to Riker, who was sat beside her as Stent took a seat, and said, `Be gentle; it's his first ever staff meeting.'

Riker smiled slightly, and nodded to the new arrival, who was a blue-skinned Bolian. `Commander Stent, I'm Commander Riker of the USS _Enterprise._ This is Fleet Captain Harris.'

Stent nodded to Harris. `A pleasure to meet you, sir.'

`Likewise,' said Harris, his voice neutral.

Harris turned to look at the expectant faces before him. `This meeting has been called to inform you all of what has taken place these last few days, and also of Starfleet's view of our current situation.'

Briefly, Harris outlined all that had happened in the space of a few days, leaving out only Captain Picard's strange disappearance, something that would leave too many unanswered questions.

When he finished, Worf looked deeply troubled. `This ship sounds extremely powerful, more so than Starfleet Intelligence at first led us to believe.'

Harris nodded. `We were taken by surprise in our engagement with the ship when it fired on us. That surprise cost us the _Nadesico_, and very nearly the _Enterprise_.'

'Now that it is heading in this direction, we can do nothing but wait for it to arrive,' added Riker. `We cannot engage it except as a last resort. We're having Commander Data look into the shielding it deployed against us. However, he is not hopeful of making a breakthrough before the ship arrives here.'

`So what can we do if the ship heads for here?' asked Stent.

Harris shrugged. `The best we can, I suppose.'

Relesi sat in her quarters, reading a book. She and Ratek had separate sleeping arrangements, as it was still a secret that they were lovers. Once the _G'gerithau_ returned to Romulus, they had planned, they were going to retire from the service and set up home in Ratek's family home outside the capital city of Romulus.

However, they had this mission to complete first.

The _G'gerithau_ and her fleet were still trailing the alien ship under full cloak as it penetrated deeper into Federation space. This was the furthest any Romulan ship had been into Federation space since the end of the war, and certainly the furthest in peacetime.

What Ratek intended to do when the ship stopped was anyone's guess. It would be difficult to conceive of him helping the federation in battle against the aliens. Despite the ostensible ties of alliance between the two superpowers, the Romulan Empire still did not feel comfortable with a group that was so closely tied to the Vulcan leadership.

Relesi sighed, and put down her book. It was at times like this that she decided that she did not want to serve any longer in the Romulan military.

The Empire, although strong militarily, was weak below the surface. The corruption in the higher echelons of the bureaucracy and especially the power-mongering of the Tal Shiar was sapping the morale of the ordinary Romulan citizen. Many expert commentators had predicted, quietly, that there would be an uprising among the Romulan citizenry soon if something was not done about it, possibly coming from Remus.

She stood, faced the mirror, and began to get ready for bed. As she did so, her mind flew back to when she and her sister had first enlisted in the military service.

Relesi and Serisa had both enlisted early with the Romulan Marine Corps, instead of waiting until their compulsory call-up had become due. Relesi had done it to get away from her overbearing parents, while Serisa had done it with more mercenary motives in mind.

Serisa had never been interested in war, or fighting, but she recognised that the only way to get an opportunity for scientific advancement was to enlist and join the space service.

Serisa was a gifted individual, with degrees in four subjects from the Romulan State University. Although she had the skills and knowledge to hold her own in any academic field, there had been a space for an anthropologist aboard the science ship _Dah'ji_, and she had taken it, leaving Romulus forever.

Relesi saw her again, though. Even though Serisa never returned to Romulus, she had always cared enough to support her younger sister's training and movement through the academy. When Relesi graduated, being two years younger than Serisa, her sister helped her deal with the emotional stress that came of leaving all that was familiar behind. And when it came to Relesi's first assignment, Serisa was able to wangle her a place aboard a Warbird, the _Devoras_.

Although they rarely saw each other face to face, they maintained a constant communication by whatever means where available, until the fateful day when Serisa was given a command of her own aboard the _Talkaris_.

After she had begun her affair with Ratek, Relesi had come to realise that she had been in the wrong position, and, for much of her life, had been following what her sister had done. And now that Serisa was… gone, Relesi had come to the decision that she had to rebuild a new life for herself, away from the past.

But she had to bury her sister first. She had to know that Serisa was dead, and that she was alone now with Ratek.

The comm bleeped. `Bridge to Subcommander Relesi.'

Relesi sighed with annoyance, and pressed the receive key. `Relesi here.'

Maltek's voice said, `Sir, we've just received a communication from the High Command. They wish to speak with you.'

`Who is it?'

`Admiral Jaled,' replied Maltek.

Relesi frowned. Jaled was one of the senior officers in the High Command, second only to those on the Continuing Committee. `Put him through.'

Jaled's voice, strong and authoritative, came through. `I'm sorry to call you at such a late hour,' he began.

`Not at all, sir,' replied Relesi smoothly. `I apologise for not switching on the visual unit, but I was preparing to get some rest.'

`Ah,' said Jaled, `then I shall be brief. Your current mission is a very high-profile one, Subcommander,' he continued, `and many in the upper echelons of the Admiralty have been watching your career with considerable interest.'

`Thank you,' replied Relesi.

`My former aide was killed during the Dominion War,' added Jaled. `I'd like for you to take his place.'

Relesi froze. When she found her tongue again, she could only muster, `Why me?'

`As I said, people back on Romulus have been watching you. And although to be a Warbird's first officer is a grand achievement, it should be noted that it does not offer the opportunities for career advancement that this position would.'

Relesi paused. `I would need to ratify this with my Commander,' she said cautiously.

Jaled's voice had a smile in it. `I have already spoken with Commander Ratek,' he said. `He seemed to be most pleased with the suggestion. I can't imagine why.'

Relesi's face suddenly coloured. _Jaled knew!_ Obviously, things weren't as much of a secret in the military as she had supposed. `Incredible, sir,' she eventually croaked out.

`Excellent,' said Jaled, his voice indicating that it was all settled. `I hope that you and the _G'gerithau_ have a successful mission. I will arrange for you to come to Romulus and discuss the transfer officially next month. Jaled out.'

And just like that, Relesi's world was turned upside down again. Where once before she had expected that she would begin an average Romulan citizen's life, now it appeared that she would be able to follow her career to its heights and still live and love Ratek on Romulus as he and she had always wished.

Suddenly, she was able to feel upbeat once again. Once again it seemed as if her sister was right behind her, helping her to succeed. And maybe to keep her memory alive.

The Bajoran wormhole flared open to admit another ship to the Gamma Quadrant. Spiralling energy tentacles of blue and white materialised against the darkness of space and the bright white light shone inside its gaping maw. It was so easy to understand why the Bajorans were such a devoutly religious people.

Riker had come to like standing on the Promenade and watching it do so on his off moments. It reminded him that the familiar could still be surprising and beautiful. He stood opposite Quark's, and despite the noise that rang out from the large bar, he still felt calm and quiet as he watched the wormhole.

Bashir came up quietly behind him. `It's a beautiful sight, isn't it, Commander?'

`Yes, indeed,' replied Riker.

Bashir stepped around him, facing him. `Commander Riker, what can you tell me of Captain Picard's illness?'

Riker turned his attention to the younger man, who had certainly caught his notice. `I'm sorry, but what business is it of yours?'

`Admiral Drayton has given me a full briefing on the situation surrounding Captain Picard,' replied Bashir disarmingly. `I thought it might be best if I knew.'

`We can't exactly treat him now, can we?' said Riker sarcastically. `Not where he's gone.'

`No, but it might help to explain some things that have been reported in Starfleet.'

This made Riker pause. `How do you mean?'

Bashir smiled slightly and looked out at the stars. `Commander, Admiral Drayton has instructed me to let you into a little secret. I would like to invite you to my quarters in an hour. Bring Mr Data along with you too. I feel that you both need to know what is really going on.'

With that mysterious comment, Bashir turned and walked away down the Promenade. Riker watched him go, mystified, but also feeling his curiosity piqued for the first time in days.

Data watched, slightly mystified himself, as Quark's face fell again. `I do not understand what the situation is,' he said.

`I'm just asking you for a favour,' said Quark between clenched teeth. `Stop playing Dabo.'

`But I do not understand why you would wish me to do such a thing. After all, the games are there to be played, and to be won -'

`But other people wish to win as well!' interrupted the Ferengi. `I think that it is highly immoral of Starfleet to send out someone who wants to wipe my Dabo tables clean! It's as if they're trying to put me out of business!'

It was at this point that Data realised that Quark was shouting more for the attention of the bar than he was remonstrating Data. And he had also realised that there were quite a large number of people who had been attracted by the noise and had wandered into the bar to find out what all the excitement was for.

Quark continued speaking loudly, making sure that everyone could hear his complaints about Starfleet, and offering all who would come into the bar a free game of Dabo in order to prove just how generous he really was. Purely to refute what Starfleet was trying to do to him, of course.

`You're going to be Quark's best friend for quite some time,' said Riker's voice behind the slightly mystified android.

Data turned and said, `Commander, all I was doing was applying logic to the game. I did not cheat in any way.'

`I know you didn't,' said Riker with a grin. `But he used you as an opportunity to get more customers into the bar. In his own way, he's a genius, that little fraudster.' He waved a hand at the now bustling bar. `Plus, he's got you as far away from his Dabo tables as he possibly can.'

Data's face fell slightly. `If he had just asked -'

Riker put a hand on his shoulder and turned him away. `Come on, Data, I need you to help me with something.'

The two _Enterprise_ officers proceeded down the dark corridors of the station, away from the noise of the Promenade. They stopped when they reached the door that they were looking for, Riker took a breath and then reached out and pressed the knocker.

The door slid aside and Bashir stood there, looking pleased. `Come in, Commander.'

They followed Bashir as he stepped back into his quarters. `Would either of you like a drink?'

Riker shook his head, followed by Data. `No, thank you.'

Bashir nodded and indicated a seat for them. Data sat first, but Riker moved over to the porthole, and turned to face Bashir. `Doctor, why have you asked us here?'

Bashir did not answer, but pressed a control on the table next to his seat. The screen flashed on in the corner of the room and Admiral Drayton's face appeared. `Welcome, Commander.'

Riker frowned. `Admiral,' he began, and then paused.

Data had no such inhibitions. `Admiral, if you required a conversation with ourselves, why did you need to go to such mysterious lengths?'

Drayton smiled slightly. `Commander Riker, Mr Data, I have called you here on a top secret matter of some urgency, of which Dr Bashir is a critical part and which may have something to do with Captain Picard's disappearance.' He paused for effect, and continued, `Tell me, have you ever heard of a group called Section 31?'


	6. The Breaking

__

Chapter VI

Darkness.

Black on ebon black.

No light seeping through.

After a while, it became bearable.

And that is when they came for him.

Spotlights flashed along the man's face as he was wheeled quickly down a long corridor. After so many hours trapped in the unremitting pitch black of his cell, the light nearly blinded him. But he could not close his eyes, which were fixed open so that he would see everything that happened. And so he endured the light.

His head, locked into position in the headrest of the trolley that he was lying on, meant that he could not look at those who carried him down the endless corridors. He could not see those who brutally dragged him around the corridors, totally silently, without end and without purpose.

Time after time, they had grabbed him from his cell, forced him to stare at the lights above him for hours on end while he was moved from one end of wherever he was to the other, and then simply thrown into another pitch black room. He became so confused and disoriented that for hours afterward, he could not move.

Occasionally, they might beat him mercilessly for an hour with what felt like whips, but which hit harder and faster and with more force than any normal whip he had ever known. Powered by hatred, they would lash him brutally, and then simply throw him away.

No questions were asked; no words were spoken at all. Every single moment of captivity was carried out in total and utter silence.

Except for the sounds of screams in the darkness.

They had held him for days now, maybe a week, as far as his broken mind could recollect. Beyond the darkness, and beyond the torture, and beyond the utter exhaustion that gripped his body, for he had not eaten since he had been captured, he knew little of himself or his life or his reason for being here.

He sat cowering in the darkness of his cell, crying silently in his few remaining minutes of silence, unable to feel anymore, unable to think or reason, his dominant spirit quelled.

And they opened the door for him, sending light flooding into the tiny room. He cried out in terror, tried to scramble away from the embracing grasp that lashed itself tightly around his arm and leg and hoisted him onto the trolley that lay waiting.

They lashed him tightly into it, fixed his head in place and made sure he could not close his eyes, even as tears streamed from them. And then, as he begged for mercy for the first time in his life, they wheeled him away, flying down the corridor.

On and on they went, faster than they had ever been before until they suddenly crashed through a door and into another room.

And there they left him.

Another dark room, but this time the man could sense that there was something else in the room with him. But he could not speak to it, for his voice, unused for so long, refused to work. He could only croak unintelligibly at his captors, begging for release from his bonds.

There was a sound. He listened, intent on that unfamiliar experience of sound. Until he realised. He began to gibber with fear, and loathing, and with all the primal terror that remained buried deep down in the human psyche when it confronts its worst fears.

For there were Borg in the room with him.

And he found that suddenly, the trolley had become a Borg assimilation chamber, and he realised that he was stood again. But he still could not speak, apart from to beg again for mercy from his emotionless captors.

But they would not relent. The noise he had heard became the noise of Borg drones going about their work pointlessly, efficiently, moving the equipment for assimilation before him.

And once again, they began the drilling into his eye. And the injection of nanoprobes into his blood, and the grafting of components onto his organic body and all of those horrors which the Borg inflict on their victims. And unlike before, he could scream all the way through.

And just when he might have hoped it was all over, a giant screen appeared before him and he could suddenly see Earth.

But not the Earth he knew and loved, but a grey and silver one. And he heard a voice saying, 'Population nine billion, sir. All Borg.'

He tried to close his eyes, tried to block out the horror of the vision, but it could not be done with a drill in his eye. And so he was forced to watch, watch, watch the planet he loved dying under the Borg assimilation as he did so alongside it.

Suddenly, he was cast forth from the chamber, dropping to his knees, encased in Borg body armour once again, assimilated.

For a moment, he could not raise his head. He remained bowed, broken in body and spirit, destroyed, when a soft touch upon his chin made him suddenly raise his eyes up with almost hope.

Which froze into terror.

She stood before him, the Borg, and said one word, '_Locutus_.'

And Jean-Luc Picard sat bolt upright, screaming his lungs out to the night.

He felt hands grab his shoulders, shaking him roughly, but nothing could bring him out of that nightmare. Dimly, he heard a voice shouting, almost cursing him into sensibility, but he could not react, could not hear, for he could see nothing but the horror.

And then he was punched.

He fell to the floor of his cell, stunned out of his mania by the sudden blow. He lunged up, seeing nothing but the face of the Borg, but was struck down again.

And hit again, and again and again -

'Enough!' he screamed. The blows stopped.

Picard blinked a couple of times, and pushed himself to a sitting position again. A moment passed, as he forced himself to regain his senses. He struggled with the madness for a moment, almost dragged back into the horror of the last moments, but forced it back with a huge effort of willpower.

He stared around his room and then looked wildly at his body. But he was not wearing Borg armour or cybernetic devices. Instead, he was his normal uniformed self.

His frantic panting breath slowed down as he calmed himself. He felt his heart slow and his brain begin to function once again. He sat resting for a moment, until he suddenly remembered the beating he had taken.

He looked up, tried to focus on a deeper shadow in the darkness before him. 'Who - Who's there?'

A female voice reached out to him from the darkness, but it was not the one that he feared. 'So you are awake at last.'

'Yes,' stuttered Picard, forcing the words from his dry mouth. 'Where am I?'

'I do not know,' said the voice. 'We are both prisoners on a ship. That is all I know.'

Picard narrowed his eyes at the darkness before him. 'Let me see you.'

There was silence for a moment, and then a face moved closer to Picard, whose vision in the dark was improving slowly. 'You're Romulan,' he breathed.

The young woman nodded. 'My name is Subcommander Serisa. I was commander of a Romulan science ship, the _Talkaris_.'

'Your ship was destroyed over a planet,' said Picard, suddenly remembering.

Serisa nodded. 'Kiros. We were conducting a science survey of the planet when one of my officers discovered this ship hidden beneath one of the Kirosian deserts. When we tried to investigate further, we obviously awoke something. We were fired upon, our ship destroyed in a single instant.'

'You beamed down to this ship?'

Serisa shook her head. 'No. We barely realised that they had fired on us. But one moment, I was stood on board the _Talkaris'_ bridge; the next, I was in this cell. I have not left here in all the time I have been here.'

Picard shook his head. 'They must have beamed you aboard at exactly the same moment that they destroyed your ship. It has been known to happen.'

Serisa nodded. She paused, and then said, 'And you are -?'

Picard was at last able to focus on something solid in his confused memory. 'My name is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets. I command the starship _Enterprise_.'

Serisa raised an eyebrow. 'I am in illustrious company indeed,' she said wryly. 'And where is your ship?'

Picard forced himself to try and think. Pushing past the clouds of fog that shrouded his mind, he sought for some grains of what he knew. 'I do not know,' he said finally. 'I abandoned her for some reason,' he added slowly, trying to make sense of the confused images running through his mind. 'I remember stealing a runabout, and leaving one of our Starbases, but that is all.'

'A thief?' asked Serisa, eyebrow still raised.

Picard shook his head again. 'I don't know why I did it.' He tried to stand, and failed, realising his legs were too weak. 'How long have I been here?'

Serisa watched his futile attempts to stand, her eyes sympathetic. 'About five days,' she said. 'You were captured when this ship engaged what looked to be a combined Federation/Lysian fleet. They brought you in here a few hours later. This is the first time you've awoken since they threw you in.'

'I've been asleep for five days?' asked Picard, incredulous. 'What's happened?'

'I don't know,' said Serisa staring up at the large window that dominated the room. 'We've been at warp speed for all of that time, and it doesn't look like we'll be coming out of it soon.' She turned her attention back to Picard. 'For yourself, you've been muttering and moaning every minute since you came in here.'

'What have I said?' asked Picard.

'Nothing that I could understand. Most of the time, you were begging for mercy.' Picard looked at Serisa, aghast, as she continued, 'I took the first opportunity I could to bring you out of that. You looked as though you were being torn apart inside.'

Picard said nothing, trying still to bring his fractured thoughts into focus. But, he could still remember what he had seen while he had been unconscious, and knew that those images and feelings had been too real to be put down to nightmares. Instead though, he eventually said, 'Do they feed you?'

Serisa nodded. 'After a fashion. It took them a while to work out what I could and couldn't eat. They've put food in for me so far, but none for you.'

'Have you seen our captors?'

'No. I was beamed directly into this room, as I said, and they've never shown themselves. The food comes in automatically, and I've never seen anyone at the other end of the delivery system.'

Picard nodded, taking stock of his surroundings, or at least, those he could see. The room they were imprisoned in was quite large, large enough to hold at least three more people. 'I wonder what this place was really built for,' he said quietly.

Serisa looked at him, puzzled. 'How do you mean?'

Picard thrust himself to his feet. 'This place is absolutely huge,' he said matter-of-factly. 'This can't have been designed merely for storing prisoners.'

`Maybe they have very tall prisoners,' said Serisa, her tone more than a little sardonic.

Picard stared at the walls, feeling sudden sensations of panic and fear building within him. With an effort, he quelled these emotions deep into his psyche, knowing instinctively within himself that those feelings had always been strongly suppressed by his desire for command and the responsibilities that entailed.

But even when his fears were suppressed, he still could not bring his mind into focus, dwelling on what he had lost, trying to make sense of what had happened to him. He could remember the events quite clearly, see what he had done. But he could not remember why he had done any of these things. None of it made any sense.

But even at his height of mental faculty, Jean-Luc Picard could not have worked out how to get out of this prison. When captive to even the best jailers in the quadrant such as the Obsidian Order, as he had the misfortune to be once, he had noted the myriad tiny opportunities for escape; the occasional lapses of guards, the flaws in the designs of the cells and so on. But this huge featureless room was without doubt the perfect prison. With no obvious means of entry or escape, and with nothing but four perfectly flat walls, except of course the large window, a ceiling that was high above them, hidden in the all pervasive shadows, and no artificial lighting source to rig or use, escape was beyond the damaged mind of the Starfleet captain imprisoned within.

Picard sighed with barely controlled frustration, feeling the exhaustion in his body for the first time. Serisa watched him with detached interest as the human tried to sit down carefully, but ended up crashing to the floor, his legs too tired to support him. `Tired?' she asked unnecessarily.

Picard just nodded. For the first time, Serisa started to look sympathetic to his plight, recognising a kindred spirit beyond their racial differences. `Look, I've tried myself,' she said. `There's just no obvious way for us to get in or out. We were both transported in here and neither of us have seen our captors –' She broke off.

Picard was asleep. For a moment, Serisa watched him, realising that this was real, undisturbed sleep, healing rest. She stretched herself out, half-smiling. `Looks like one of us has the right idea.'

Ratek glared at the main screen on the bridge of the _G'gerithau_ silently, bored almost witless. The passive scans that the entire fleet was making of the huge black vessel as it cruised patiently onwards had revealed no more new information. Relesi had pored over every intelligence sweep, desperate to try and make a difference in the dull pursuit, trying to give Ratek something he could report back to the Committee or use against the invader. And now the Warbird fleet had entered Federation space, he had ordered them all onto a high alert status, one which had lasted nearly fifty hours.

Romulan soldiers were the best in the quadrant, Ratek believed, but this state of high alert for so long could cause problems for even the most dedicated officers. He himself had been on watch nearly fifteen hours straight.

Something moved, catching his attention, and Ratek swung around to look at Relesi, who had stiffened in her seat. She turned to face Ratek. `Commander,' she began formally, usually a harbinger of bad news, `I'm reading four Federation starships on an intercept course.'

`Four?' asked Ratek. `Any indication that they've come for us and not the other ship?'

`Unclear at present,' responded Relesi.

Before she could continue, one of the other officers called, `Commander, our scanners are picking up another three Federation starships, positioned aft and to port of us. We're boxed in.'

`Have any of those ships made an aggressive move towards us?' asked Ratek.

The officer turned and frowned. `Commander, we are cloaked –'

Ratek nodded gently. `I know. My question still stands.'

The officer turned away to his panel again. `No, sir. They are maintaining a fixed formation around us and the ship.'

Ratek pondered for a moment. `They're not here for us. They're maintaining a tracking force around this ship. The same thing as us.'

`Sir, if they even suspect for a moment that we're here –' Relesi began, and then stopped, appalled by the possible consequences.

`Do you think that we can gain any more information from our passive scans?' asked Ratek. Relesi shook her head immediately. `Then cease all scans of the ship. Go to full silent running and watch those starships like a hawk. We can't do anymore without compromising our security.'

`Yes, sir,' replied the officer.

Ratek turned back to glare at the screen again, knowing that he and his fleet were now, unwillingly, in it for the duration.

The Ops Command Centre of _DS9_ had undergone a full refurbishment since the end of the war. Gone were the dark walls, restricted lighting and odd angles of Cardassian design. In had come lighter colours, more open and comfortable seating plans and better access to workstations, all based primarily along Starfleet military design protocols. Even a new commander's chair had been installed in the hub of this, similar to the bridge of a starship. And Bajoran touches pervaded the design, with small, unobtrusive decorations and design quirks giving a lighter feel to the gateway to the Gamma Quadrant.

Riker, Harris and Kira stepped onto the deck of Ops, and Riker stopped to admire the new décor, attracting an amused glance from two or three of the junior officers.

Kira half-turned to face him as she proceeded to her new command seat. `I hope you like our new colour scheme,' she said as she sat down.

Riker flashed her the "Old Riker Grin". `I preferred the dark look. More gritty.'

Harris, oblivious to this byplay, said, `Can we bring up a scan of the sector?'

Kira glanced at Commander Stent, who was already inputting commands. A moment later, the viewscreen flickered into life, and a 3-D grid of the sector appeared. On it, the positions of the Starfleet ships around the vast bulk of the alien vessel could be clearly seen.

Harris stared at the screen for a long moment before he looked at Kira. `Their ETA is now only two days away. So far, they have made no further aggressive moves, and, better, they have not turned towards _DS9_.'

`We are still working to get all non-essential personnel away from the station,' said Kira. `Unfortunately, on a station this big, it's not easy. But the use of a ship like the _Texas _to ferry peoplehas been very useful.'

`Sir,' said a voice. Kira, Harris and Riker turned to look at the one most unlikely face in the conglomerate of aliens in the Ops centre.

`Yes, Lieutenant Nog?' replied Kira.

`I'm reading some unusual emissions from the wormhole,' said the young Ferengi. `It appears to be… pulsing?'

Kira frowned at him. `Pulsing?'

Nog looked slightly embarrassed about disturbing his commanding officer with such a strange piece of data, but carried on regardless. `I was scanning the wormhole on a quantum frequency, Colonel, when I noticed that it was sending out regular pulses of what looked to be mixed tachyon and neutrino particles.'

`Is the Klingon ship in that area in any danger?' asked Kira.

`I don't believe so,' said Nog. `These concentrations of particles are not capable of penetrating duranium.'

`Let them know what's happening anyway.'

`Aye, sir,' replied Nog, who turned his attention to his console again.

Captain Solvek stood and stared silently at his viewscreen on the main bridge of the USS _Lancelot_. His view of the space before him had not changed in almost thirty hours of watching. As a Vulcan, he could keep longer watches than humans, or, indeed, most other races, but even he was beginning the feel the boredom take its toll.

Knowing that the alien ship was continuing in an exactly straight line, at an exact speed of warp 4.72 and had not changed at all made it worse somehow. Only three more days at this speed, and it would leave Federation space.

Solvek repressed a yawn as ruthlessly as he repressed emotions. He turned to face the helmsman, who forced himself upright from his slightly slumped position at his console. `Course of alien ship?'

The helmsman sighed, and brought up the figures on his console. `Course of alien vessel is 991 mark 745. Unchanged, sir, since the last time you asked,' he added.

`And I have no doubt that they will remain unchanged next time that I ask,' replied Solvek impassively, but with a knowing look that all of the officers aboard his ship had come to recognise. The helmsman smiled slightly.

`Sir,' said the science officer suddenly, `I'm picking up a strange disturbance on the scanners coming from the direction of Bajor.'

`What is it, Lieutenant Calleen?' asked Solvek.

`It appears to be a mixture of high concentrations of tachyon and neutrino particles,' replied Calleen, sounding confused. `And it's coming in regular pulses, too regular to be –'

`Sir!' called the helmsman. `Alien ship is altering course to 478 mark 447! Directly towards the wormhole!'

Solvek was in his command chair in two strides. `Give me a tactical overview on the main screen.'

A grid of the local sector appeared, with the alien ship clearly changing course towards _DS9_. And then a series of tiny dots suddenly came into being. Solvek's fears were confirmed a moment later.

`Sir,' said the helm officer, `the alien ship has launched it's attack fighters. They appear to be forming a defence screen around it.'

`Signal the other ships to go to yellow alert and alter our course to follow that ship,' said Solvek. `And relay this to _Deep Space Nine_.'

`Commander,' called Relesi. `We're reading a course change! The alien ship has set course for Bajor!'

Ratek strode over to his command chair from where he was speaking with one of the junior officers. `What are the Starfleet vessels doing?'

`They are altering course to match,' replied Nelran, the helmsman of the _G'gerithau_. `The alien ship is also launching fighters.'

Ratek tensed inwardly, remembering what those tiny things had done to the _T'Partel_. He kept his face and voice calm. `Are they making any hostile moves towards us or the Federation forces?'

Nelran shook his head. `No, sir, they're maintaining a formation around the main ship. It appears to be a defence screen.'

`Alter course to pursue, and order the fleet to go up to full alert, and ready for battle stations.'

`Yes, Commander,' said Relesi, sounding the alert.

The two fleets, operating unknowingly in tandem, swept around behind the black ship as it turned towards _DS9_.

`Sir,' said Nog urgently, `we're receiving a transmission from Captain Solvek on the _Lancelot_.'

`On screen,' ordered Kira.

Solvek's face appeared on the screen above them. His face was saturnine, but a trace of worry could be detected in his manner, which to those inexperienced in reading Vulcans might be unnoticed. `Fleet Captain,' he began, `the alien ship has changed course for _Deep Space Nine_. We're currently tracking it.'

Harris' face became grim. `What's its ETA?'

`Thirty-two hours at it's present speed. It's also deployed it's fighters as a defence screen. It obviously wants to get through your defences.'

`They're trying to get to the wormhole,' said Riker to himself. Speaking louder, he said, `Captain, did you record a series of pulsed tachyon and neutrino emissions?'

Solvek nodded. `They seemed to be coming from your direction.'

Harris looked at Riker. `Those pulses?'

Riker nodded, forgetting his enmity for a moment. `There's no way those pulses could have been natural,' he said. `For some reason, the wormhole has been luring the alien ship here.'

`There are aliens living in the wormhole,' said Kira. `We call them the Prophets on Bajor.'

Riker nodded, knowing that he had heard of this before. `And Captain Sisko was their Emissary?'

Kira nodded. `There's a religious school of thought growing on Bajor that the Emissary was called into the Celestial Temple once his task was complete.'

`What was his task?'

`To bring about Bajor's Golden Age,' replied Kira simply. `Beyond that, no-one seems to know.'

Riker tried to mull this over, but Harris broke into his thoughts. `Well, brushing over the religious issues, we have a hostile vessel on an approach towards us that will arrive in less than two days. We need to prepare for it's arrival.'

`I'll order the sector to full alert and order all non-essential personnel to leave the station along with the civilians,' said Kira.

`I'll get back to the _Enterprise_,' said Riker. `They're going to have to assist with the evacuation. With luck and hard work we can get everyone to Bajor by tomorrow morning.'

`I'll join you as soon as I can,' said Harris. `But I need to co-ordinate the defences from here before I return to the _Enterprise_.'

`You don't want to move to intercept it, Captain?' asked Kira.

Harris shook his head. `It's better that we wait for it to get here. I feel that rushing to meet it away from our defences could lead to another disaster like the destruction of the _Nadesico_. If we can meet it here, it's possible that our combined firepower may be able to persuade to veer off.'

Riker raised an eyebrow at that optimistic appraisal, but then he saw the look on Harris' face, one of genuine regret at the loss of the _Nadesico_. It was not an expression that he had expected to see. But his voice remained non-committal. `I'll see you on the _Enterprise_.'

The giant starship moved away from _DS9_ quietly, loaded to the brim with civilian passengers being ferried to Bajor.

As the _Enterprise_ turned towards the distant planet, Kira watched it go with a sense of deep foreboding, directing, once more, her talents towards warfare. For someone who had longed for peace for so long, and it appeared had been promised by the intervention of the Federation, it was another blow.

Now, she could look at the Promenade behind her, and see no-one except the occasional pair of armed security guards. Even Quark's had been shut down, and the Ferengi had been shuttled off to Bajor, protesting vociferously, with all of the other civilians.

And now _DS9_, a normally bustling and busy place, was a silent as a grave, a thing that Kira had not seen since the darkest days of the Dominion War. She shivered slightly, allowing herself a touch of emotion, something that she had tried to keep suppressed since….

She could not even bring herself to think of that day, one of the darkest that she had known. She had left Odo with his own people, and returning to _DS9_ shortly thereafter to discover that Ben Sisko had vanished, mysteriously. It was something that had hung over her since taking command – a nagging feeling that at any moment, Starfleet might replace her with someone more acceptable to their establishment.

But it had also been the day when she had lost two of her closest friends. Sisko had been more than just her commanding officer – he had also been her religion's figurehead and his arrival on _DS9_ became one of the most heralded and important events in Bajor's history. And more than that, he had become one of the few people she would ever let past her barriers to see the emotionally frail woman behind the aggressive façade.

And Odo, her latest in a long line of doomed loves. Bareil, Shakaar and now a Changeling, whose people she had fought (and killed) in the three-year war. You do not get much closer than she and Odo had become.

But now she faced the world on her own once more, independent and unchained, walking the tightrope between the demands of her people and the requirements of the Federation.

And it also seemed that the world since _DS9_ had first become a Federation outpost seemed to have descended into warfare and anarchy. Wars against the Borg, Klingons and the Dominion had seemingly rent the established order of the Alpha Quadrant permanently. And there was news of a modernisation push in Starfleet itself. If that bureaucratic monolith had begun to get the message that the galaxy was changing, then the world _was_ a different place.

Ezri Dax stepped up behind her commander, watching the dwindling shape of the _Enterprise_. `Colonel Kira?'

The Bajoran turned to face the station's new counsellor, a post that had been unforeseen to include in the original crew before Jadzia's death. Ezri's posting had become invaluable to the crew since the departure of so many of the senior staff had left Kira with a minor staffing crisis. She had been able to back-up many of the duties that had been left empty by Jadzia's death until Sisko and, to a lesser extent, Kira, could restaff.

And after Sisko's disappearance, she had been key in helping the crew, and Kira herself, cope with the aftermath of the war and the responsibilities and problems of managing the change. In that way, she had proved her worth and Kira had rewarded her with a promotion to full Lieutenant.

`What can I do for you, Ezri?' she asked in reply.

`I've had several officers approaching me, sir, wanting to know more about what's going to hit the station tomorrow. They're concerned that it's a Dominion attack, or maybe the beginning of another war.'

Kira nodded, raising herself from her concerns, feeling the responsibility of her station settling easily back onto her shoulders. `We'd better go and tell everyone what's going on.'

Nervous tension pervaded both the station and the fleet surrounding it. They could track the alien vessel easily from the comfort of their various command centres, they knew its exact moment of arrival and what they might expect when it arrived.

This was the most dangerous period before a battle, Riker knew as he stared from the briefing room window, alone. When the preparation was carried out as carefully as in Starfleet, there was always a period shortly before when the mind might not relax, and tension could override the mind's ability to think clearly in a crisis.

And battles were always crises.

The fleet was now arrayed for battle. The taskforce had spread itself out along a thin front line, ready to compress at any moment wherever the dark alien vessel appeared from warp. _Deep Space Nine_ itself was on red alert, it's weapon systems deployed once again.

The Klingon ship _Kregh_ was lurking somewhere on the periphery of the fleet, cloaked in order to launch a surprise attack against the fighters the ship had deployed. And the rest of the taskforce pursuing the enemy vessel would hit it from behind like a hammer on an anvil.

And, considering the disdain with which it had treated the taskforce before, they would be lucky if it even stopped to pay attention to them before entering the wormhole.

All in all, mused Riker, it would be an interesting fight.

Riker suddenly realised that he wasn't alone in the room, and he turned to see Hedly stood in the doorway. `What can I do for you, Lieutenant Commander?' he asked.

Hedly stepped forward cautiously. `Sir, I know this is probably not an issue at the moment, but I've been continuing my investigation into that mysterious file that Captain Picard discovered shortly before he disappeared.'

Riker turned his full attention on the security chief. `And?'

`I have tracked it back to its source, sir,' she replied. `It came from a classified message transmission centre on Earth.' Hedly stepped closer to Riker, and he could see that her face was troubled. `Sir, it was a Starfleet facility.'

Riker frowned at her, now troubled himself. `Was it a Starfleet document?'

Hedly nodded. `We all know that Captain Picard recorded it himself, but the document bears several markers that identify it as being kept in archive storage for at least two years. And it was transmitted on a secure frequency to the _Enterprise_ shortly before we arrived at Starbase 445. It would have required Captain Picard's personal authorisation to open it.'

`How did you open it?' asked Riker.

Hedly allowed a faint smile to break onto her face. `That would be telling, sir. As security chief, I need to have access to certain things to do my job properly. Commander Worf was very sure of that.'

Riker narrowed his eyes at her. `Very well, Commander. Good job. I need you to keep on top of this from now on. Report directly to me.'

`Sir,' said Hedly, `if I wanted Captain Harris to know, I wouldn't have come to you first.'

Riker had to smile at that.

Then, without warning, the red alert siren sounded. The two stared at each other, stunned, before running to the door to the bridge.

`Report!' called Riker over the din.

Data, at Ops, turned. `Sir, the alien ship has increased speed to warp factor seven and now has an ETA of seven minutes, thirteen seconds.'

Riker sat in the command chair. `Signal Captain Harris on _DS9_.'

`He's calling us, sir,' said Hedly, as quickly to her console as Riker to his chair.

`On screen.'

Harris appeared, calling from Ops on _DS9_. Behind him, Kira stood, her face concerned but also ready for the fight. `Commander, I'll be remaining on the station. I don't want to jeopardise the _Enterprise_ by having her drop her shields so close to a battle.'

Riker frowned at the strange reason but kept quiet. There was ample time for him to beam over safely. `Understood, Captain.'

Harris nodded once, satisfied, and vanished, his face replaced by stars.

Riker glanced around the bridge at everyone, catching their eyes. `Okay, this is going to be tough. Try and hold the line as long as possible and keep your eyes open. We all know what happened to the _Nadesico_.'

No-one reacted openly to the mention of their sister ship, but Riker knew his crew had been stunned by the loss of so many of their comrades. Starship crews were closer than any other military grouping had been in history, and the loss of any ship and friends hurt more than it had in any other conflict before.

But Riker also knew that the best way of healing these wounds was to confront them soon and hard, otherwise they could fester and damage a crew's morale.

He glanced around the bridge crew, noted the solemn but prepared faces, and nodded to himself. `Commander Hedly, ready all weapons and raise shields.'


	7. The Possibility Of Hope

__

Chapter VII

Picard had slept for several hours, and had not dreamt once. His sleep, untroubled, allowed his body to repair and refresh itself for the first time in nearly two weeks.

But it was clear that something was not right with the Starfleet officer, Serisa noted as she watched him sleep. He often muttered quietly to himself while he slept, although not the anguished torture that he had been put through since he had arrived in the cell. And one word stood out above all of the others.

`Rosanna….' He whispered it again, and Serisa shuddered slightly, although she did not know why.

It sounded like a name, similar to the Romulan name R'orsna, now somewhat unpopular with the Romulan populace, but still used. But the way he said it, as if it were the centre of his life, but also gone from him, overtones and undertones of anguish, love, despair and hatred all mixed together in one single word – it sent shudders through her body, knowing that someone felt such powerful and deep emotion about another.

Serisa gave a start as Picard opened his eyes, looking directly into hers. `How long?' he asked without preamble.

`About ten hours,' said the Romulan, trying to maintain her dignified cool expression. `They put some food in the room, but I couldn't wake you. I've saved some, if you like.' She passed Picard a bowlful of a strange concoction that looked as bad as it tasted.

Picard levered himself to a sitting position, and took the proffered bowl. He looked at what was in it for a moment, and then looked at Serisa wryly, saying, `Thank you.'

Despite herself, Serisa smiled at him and his attempt at good humour. She stood as Picard began to eat, and stared from the large window at the stars streaking by. `I wonder where we're going.' Picard didn't answer, so she continued, `Do they have some idea of where they're going?'

`I hope so,' said Picard, not looking up. `Otherwise we're in for a long journey.'

Serisa turned and stared at him. `How can you be so calm about it?'

Picard looked at her, and for a moment, Serisa saw the pain and the anger that burned like wildfire in his unblinking eyes. `It's the only way,' was all he said in answer before turning back to his food.

Suddenly, the ship lurched forward, knocking Serisa to the deck. They both looked at the stars streaking by the window and stared at each other. `We've changed course,' breathed the Romulan.

Picard nodded, his face becoming resolute as he set his bowl down and helped Serisa up. `And speeded up, it seems. They've decided where they're going at last.'

`That means they'll have to decide what to do with us soon,' replied Serisa. `If and when we arrive somewhere, they'll want to dispose or use us in some way, and that will give us our chance to escape.'

Picard nodded. `You're right. But we need to get out of here to do so. And soon.'

`But how?' Serisa glanced up and around the large cell. `No doors, no exit or entry points.'

Picard thought for a moment. `How do they get the food into us?'

`I'm not sure,' said Serisa. `Most of the time I hear a noise and it's suddenly there.'

`Always in the same place?'

Serisa nodded. `There's obviously an entry point there, but how it works or even where it is I don't know. The wall is always completely smooth and has no flaws that might be a door.'

Picard frowned. `How does it get out?'

Serisa opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, surprised. `I don't know, but however they do it, they've done it again.'

Picard turned to find that the bowl he had eaten from a few moments ago had vanished. `They're watching us,' he said. `They know when we've finished, and they wait so that they can remove the object that we've finished with.'

`How?'

`They must be using some form of transporter technology,' said Picard. `Something like a replicator.'

`To disassemble molecules?' said Serisa. `But that would mean that they had a input and output port in here….'

Her voice trailed off as she stared at the distant, out of sight ceiling. Picard followed her gaze, and said, `I think we've found our escape route.'

`I am not even thinking about that,' Serisa said resolutely. `That would be tantamount to suicide.'

Picard stumbled and would have fallen had Serisa not grabbed him and held him as the ship suddenly lurched once again, this time backwards. They both turned to stare at the window and then looked at each other, surprised and worried at the same time. `We've stopped,' breathed Serisa.

`But where?' asked Picard. He scrambled to his feet, and went immediately to the window.

Serisa didn't understand the meaning of the next word that Picard uttered, but it sounded something like a Romulan greeting, _shitre._ She got to her feet and joined him. `I recognise this place,' she said quietly.

Picard nodded. `I know.'

In the middle distance from their vantage point, they could see a huge dark shape that could only be a planet. But what caught their attention was the graceful shape of the space station _Deep Space Nine_ as it rotated smoothly on its axis. `They're heading for the wormhole,' said Serisa. `They're trying to link up with the Dominion!'

Picard nodded to himself. `It would be a logical course of action. We could find this ship leading a new Jem'Hadar invasion force through the wormhole in a few years.'

`Where's Starfleet?' demanded Serisa. `If they thought this ship might come anywhere near the wormhole, they would have deployed some sort of defence to defend _DS9_.'

Picard looked up slightly, and smiled. `They're there.'

Serisa looked up to follow his gaze and gasped.

Three starships swooped towards their prison vessel, phaser beams lancing into the shield, before pulling away, pursued by the tiny attack fighters that defended the huge ship. Picard recognised one of those ships. `Will Riker.'

The _Enterprise_ shook slightly as the fighters struck back with their inordinately powerful weapons. Riker glanced up at Hedly who simply smiled and said, `No effect on our shields.'

`Remind me to tell Geordi he did a hell of a job,' muttered Truper from helm.

`Give me a projection of the course it'll enter the wormhole from,' called Riker to Data. `We need to know where it's going.'

`Working,' replied the android.

`Captain, the ship has still not returned our fire,' said Hedly. `They're responding with the attack fighters only.'

`Good,' said Riker. `Hopefully, they not want to engage our ships in a straight fight.'

`Commander,' said Data, `the ship has not yet altered course towards the wormhole. It may be suffering the effects of momentum at such high speeds.'

`How do you mean?' asked Riker.

`Such a large ship will have to take a considerable amount of time to slow itself down, unless they have exceptionally powerful sublight engines. There is no indication that they are utilising any such method of propulsion.' Data looked back at Riker. `They may have come out of warp so early in order to use their momentum to carry them through the wormhole.'

`Sir, the alien ship is moving very quickly through our lines,' added Truper. `Although it hasn't changed course, it will have to do so in the next ten minutes in order to pass through the wormhole's event horizon.'

Riker nodded. `Recommend to Captain Harris that we try and present it with a wall of fire to stop it before it reaches _DS9_.'

`A wall of fire?' asked Hedly, puzzled.

`Try and overload its shields before it can break through the lines. Tactics and manoeuvring for position are useless against this. Sheer concentrated firepower might be the only way through. If we judge it right, we can make sure that _Deep Space Nine's _firepower is added to the equation.'

`Understood,' replied Data, as he turned back to his console.

`Sir, I have Captain Harris on the main screen,' Hedly announced almost immediately.

Riker stood to face the fleet captain, who said, `I've heard your suggestion, Commander. I agree with you on it.'

`Sir, where is the rest of the taskforce? They should have hit by now.'

`I'm diverting them to join you at _DS9_. I want you to retreat and form a new defence perimeter here,' said Harris. `Then we'll see how well they can hold off a full concentrated and sustained attack. I'll order the _Kregh_ to cover your retreat and hold off the attack fighters.'

Riker nodded. `Understood.'

The _Enterprise_, accompanied by her retinue of starships, pulled away from the fighting, brushing aside the attacks of the tiny fighters as they did so. Occasional beams of phaser energy slashed into the shields of their opponent, but other than that, they moved away almost at leisure.

But astern, the swarm of fighters gathered itself for a surprise attack. The huge group swept together and then lashed out in a giant surge towards the taskforce.

The darkness of space rippled and from nowhere, the giant shape of a _Vor'cha_ attack cruiser appeared, it's disruptors spitting green fire the second the cloaking device released its grip on the ship.

The green energy lanced into the giant formation of fighters, exploding in their midst, and they were so tightly packed together that the explosion ripped some apart instantly, and sent yet still others crashing into one another, scattering the formation like seeds on the wind.

The giant Klingon vessel cruised casually through the conflagration, lashing out whenever it saw one of the punch drunk fighters trying to rise from the ashes.

Within moments, the swarm had been decimated, fleeing from the onslaught as the _Kregh_ made its way back towards the space station.

Riker smiled grimly to himself as he watched the short battle on the main viewer. `Thanks, Worf,' he said, _sotto voce_. He turned his attention to Truper. `Has the enemy vessel changed course yet, Lieutenant?'

`No, sir. Still maintaining heading.'

`I'm observing that it's speed is reducing,' said Data. `It will come to a full stop in approximately twelve minutes, sir. They have some form of deceleration device, obviously, but not powerful enough to bring it to a dead stop.'

Riker nodded thoughtfully. `Unfortunately, we can't bring that vulnerability to our advantage.'

Data shook his head regretfully. `It appears not.'

Riker fought down a surge of frustration at that news, eliciting a quick look from Troi. `Will, keep calm,' she whispered to him.

`I'm trying,' Riker replied, equally quietly. `But we can't seem to do anything to it.'

`I know,' Troi said. `And I appreciate how frustrating this is.'

Riker looked at her for a moment. `Can you actually feel anything from that ship? Any emotions?'

Troi looked pensive for a moment, before she nodded. `It's difficult to assign human emotions normally to a race that isn't human, even in the case of a people like Klingons, or Romulans, or even Vulcans.' She sighed. `But this is even more awkward. They don't appear to think anything like us – there's a swirling mass of emotions, as though they don't seem to have any rein on them at all. But they're difficult to pin down, almost as if they were dreaming constantly….'

`Dreaming?' asked Riker.

Troi nodded, her face lost in thought. `It's the first time I've been able to look into their minds since we first heard of them. But I can't pick out individuals from their group. There's a great mass of thoughts, feelings, and all of the other things that appear within a mind, but spread out over such a large area and in so many different ways and concentrations – I can't begin to make sense of it.'

`Keep trying, Deanna. Your insight can make the difference,' said Riker, his voice warm.

`Sir,' Truper's voice said, `we're approaching _DS9_. We've been ordered to move into a defensive line.'

`Do so, Mr Truper,' said Riker, his tone slightly reprimanding. `Don't wait for me.'

Truper threw a quick glance at Data, his brow furrowed. `Aye, sir.'

The _Enterprise_ swung around to face the dark ship, joined moments later by its retinue, forming a loose line between the enemy craft, _Deep Space Nine_, and the wormhole.

`They'll have to push through that line to reach the wormhole,' commented Serisa to Picard, who had watched the battle silently thus far. `That's good positioning.'

Picard nodded. `But ultimately useless. This ship will push through quite easily and they will lose ships if they don't take care.'

Serisa gave him a puzzled look. `How do you know?'

Picard frowned, turned away from the window –

__

He had sent Sisko and his forces towards the mother ships – he could only try and hold his own here.

His forces were now fully engaged right along the line that he had placed between Bajor and the invaders. And it was not enough.

From the bridge of the Enterprise, _he could see the darkness pushing inexorably towards them, looming black circles blocking out the stars, firing those incredibly powerful weapons into the fleet. He could not hold them back, could not stop them as they forced their way into his life, trying to destroy everything that he held dear._

And succeeding.

Picard felt a strong blow land on his face, hard enough to snap him back to the dark room and reality. He grunted and tried to reach out to restrain his attacker – and saw Serisa's face above him. `I hope I don't have to do that to you too often – I'll get a strain,' she said.

Picard fought down the rising panic within him – _How long was I out? – _and forced a smile for her. `I'll try not to let you injure yourself.'

He struggled to his feet. `What's going on?' he demanded, forcing his most brusque demeanour onto himself to hide his fear.

`I'm not sure,' said Serisa. `You suddenly collapsed when I asked you how you knew this ship would force it's way through their line.'

Picard looked at her. `How long?'

`About a minute,' replied the Romulan.

Picard nodded and turned his attention to the stalled battle. He gazed from the large window out onto the spacescape before him. The shape of _DS9_ had moved out of view and it was clear that the ship was still slowing down and not yet turning towards the defenders.

The line of starships between the station and the giant ship reminded too much of that painful defeat that threatened to overwhelm his mind – but he could not remember such a defeat or any such battle ever having taken place in his life. If he had gone through something on that scale, it would be a legend in the Alpha Quadrant.

He wrapped his arms around himself, realising that he was shaking. Serisa saw this, and concern became etched onto her face. `Captain Picard, what's wrong?'

Picard turned towards her, his face anguished, torn by hatred, fear and despair, trying to force some semblance of control, but failing. `I don't know –' 

Troi jolted to her feet. `Will!'

Riker turned to face her, as she stepped towards him, shock in her eyes. `What?'

`The Captain's aboard that ship!'

The bridge fell silent as all of the crew turned stunned eyes on Troi. `Can you sense him?' asked Riker, trying to stay calm. `Is he still….?'

Insane. The unspoken word hung in the minds of everyone on the bridge. Troi stared into Riker's eyes for a moment, and then, dropped her head slightly. `I could only sense a brief burst of his feelings, but they had to have been strong, incredibly strong, for them to carry this distance. However, the emotions he's experiencing at the moment are far too intense and scattered for him to be anything else.' Her eyes lit up then, burning with an intensity that completely shattered her previous expression of dejection. `But we can still rescue him, Will. We can bring him aboard and treat him. _He's not dead!_'

Riker smiled at her fervour. `Don't worry, I intend to.'

He strode to his seat, pausing only to say to Hedly, `Get me Captain Harris.'

`Aye, sir,' said Hedly, smiling.

`Bridge to sickbay.'

Beverly's voice answered. `Sickbay here.'

`Doctor, I want you to prepare for a patient to be beamed directly to you. It's Captain Picard.'

There was silence for a brief second. Then Crusher came back on the line, her voice stunned, but happy. `We'll be ready, sir. Sickbay out.'

`I have Captain Harris on the main viewer,' Hedly followed up immediately.

Riker stood and strode over to the front of the bridge, directly beside Data. `Sir, we've found Captain Picard.'

For the first time that Riker had known Harris, the fleet captain was lost for words, stunned. `How – How do you know?' he managed.

`Counsellor Troi has sensed his emotions, sir. I want your permission to launch an attack on that ship and try and extract the captain.'

`Permission denied,' said Harris instantly. `I will not break this line up in order to chase after a single officer. I believe that a sustained strike against the enemy vessel will weaken it's defences and destroy it.'

Riker threw a glance at Data, who shrugged. `Who made this analysis?'

`I did,' Harris shot back, his face and voice belligerent. `I know some things about shields, and I know for a fact that we cannot beam someone through a shield without bringing it down first.'

`That was going to be my suggestion, sir,' said Riker, forcing patience into his voice, and keeping a calm demeanour over his boiling anger that might burst out into the open at any second and ruin any chance he had of recovering his captain. `If the taskforce opens fire on the enemy ship and brings down it's shields, we can steal in and rescue the captain.'

`I need the _Enterprise's_ firepower here to do that, Commander,' said Harris, his face growing dark. `And I will not risk the flagship of the fleet on some damn fool rescue mission. Permission _denied_, Commander. _DS9_ out.'

Riker swore violently, and turned his face from the screen, fighting to keep his fury under control. Troi and the others watched him worriedly, as the Counsellor came up behind him to rest her hand on his back. `You tried your best, Will.'

Riker's head shot up. `I haven't even begun yet.' He turned to Data. `Data, go to shuttlebay one and prepare a shuttle for launch. I'll give you your orders on a secure channel when you're prepped.'

Data nodded, his face deadly serious. `Aye, sir.'

Riker strode back to his seat as the android made for the forward turbolift. `Hedly, go with him.'

The security chief simply nodded and followed Data from the bridge. Riker threw himself into the captain's chair as two junior officers took the positions vacated, and Deanna sat beside him. `I hope you're not going to do anything foolish,' said the Betazoid quietly.

Riker didn't answer or acknowledge her. Troi looked away. `That's what I thought,' she said to herself.

`Sir, enemy vessel has changed course,' said Truper abruptly. `Now turning towards us!'

`Movement of defensive screen?' asked Riker.

`They're swinging round as well, sir, but they're not moving forward to engage us,' replied the helmsman. He suddenly frowned at the report. `Sir, it looks like they're withdrawing. I think the main ship is taking them back in.'

`Why would they do that?' asked Riker quietly.

`The alien ship is definitely moving towards an intercept course, sir,' added Truper. `Estimate five minutes until firing range.'

`Shuttlebay one to bridge,' said Hedly's voice. `Sir, we've boarded the shuttle _Brisbane_. Awaiting your orders.'

`Okay,' replied Riker. He pressed a few controls on the arm of his chair, switching to a secured channel. `Hedly, don't get involved in the fighting at all. Just press as close to the alien ship as you can without attracting attention to yourself. You're small, so you might escape notice. Data, just one word; _Locutus_.'

Hedly, sat in the pilot's position, threw a confused glance at the android beside her, but he looked calm as he nodded. `Acknowledged and understood, Commander.'

`Good luck,' Riker said.

The _Brisbane_ tilted up on its manoeuvring thrusters and then soared from the open shuttlebay doors into space. As it entered the darkness, it hugged close to it's mother ship so as not to be seen by prying sensors from either side.

Hedly finished moving the shuttlecraft and then turned to Data. `Sir, what's our plan? And what did Commander Riker mean?'

Data stared pensively from the forward screen, gazing towards the distant bulk of the enemy vessel. `When Captain Picard was captured by the Borg, and turned into Locutus, myself, Commander Riker, and Commander Worf planned out an attempt to rescue him, instead of destroying the Borg Cube like we were ordered to. We disobeyed orders, nearly got ourselves killed but succeeded in our mission. And that was the key to the entire battle against the Borg. Because we had rescued the captain, we had suddenly gained a massive advantage over them. That was how critical the Captain was and is to the sector. We cannot abandon him, not as soldiers, and not as friends.'

Hedly nodded, feeling once again her intense pride at serving with such a dedicated crew.

Picard sat in the corner of the dark room, bald head held in his hand, fingers pressed almost so tightly enough to crush the seemingly fragile skull. Serisa watched, silently, almost fearfully, from the other corner, hoping not to get in the way if he exploded into another sudden fit of rage and violence as he had a moment ago. A black eye and green blood trickling from the corner of her mouth bore silent testimony to where another anger attack had lashed out at her, simply as the closest person.

And then he had crumpled into the corner, not seeming to realise the violence he had inflicted on the stunned woman. Serisa watched, horrified, as the tidal wave of memories was fully undammed at long last.

Picard saw it all, unbroken, complete. All of the horror, kept hidden behind imposed barriers which had now fallen totally flooded through his mind. Even now, before his current incarceration, he had not truly, totally succumbed to the destructive effects of his memories – only overwhelmingly strong emotion could do that.

But being in the midst of this situation, captured by those who he called his nemeses, watching almost a replay of what he had done previously was now too much for him. The barriers to his suppressed memories fell completely, destroyed by an overload of emotion. Those memories, all of them, names, faces, events, more than forty years worth, all crashed into him, forcing his conscious, higher self down like a ship inundated by flood waters, almost on the brink of sinking fatally.

But this time, he resisted them, forcing his mind into line by sheer determination, exerting every part of the incredible willpower that had earned him such a legendary reputation across two quadrants. He rode out the first crush of memories, and then tried to pick them apart, make sense, fit them into an ordered pattern.

But, of course, that could not happen with the vast majority. Most of them revolved around events that, in one sense, had never happened. And others simply did not make sense if not connected to that which had taken place.

So the only option was to live those memories again in his mind, to try and piece them together in a chronological order.

All of this Picard's mind did in seconds, living years of his life again in brief moments, experiencing, fear, anger, despair, and all the gamut of human feeling once again. It had driven him mad once.

And, to Serisa, it was clear that it would do it again.

An alarm bleeped on Truper's console, causing him to look at Riker, worry on his young face. `Commander, the alien ship is picking up speed, fast.'

`How fast?' said Riker.

`It's accelerating to nearly 0.7 of light speed,' said Truper.

`They must have one _hell_ of a power source to drive a ship that size faster than we can drive ours,' commented Geordi from his position behind tactical. His voice was quietly awed. `I thought their warp capabilities were impressive, but this is something else.'

Riker stood and walked over to Geordi's position. `Can you give me a scan of their power source, Geordi? Let's see what we're dealing with.'

Geordi nodded and set to work. A few moments later, he sighed and shook his head in frustration. `They've deployed a sensor scrambler on their hull – it's blocking our scans. It's far more powerful than anything that we've got.'

Riker nodded, and looked at the small viewer above the console, displaying what little they knew about the giant ship. He sighed, remembering his initial reaction upon seeing it over Data's shoulder at this same console, and now he looked at it so dispassionately, it surprised him.

`We're receiving a signal from Captain Harris,' said the tactical officer to Riker.

`Let's have it,' said Riker, his voice resigned.

Harris' face appeared on the main viewer, Ops and Kira in the background. `This is Fleet Captain Harris to all ships,' he began. `The alien ship will be ready for it's final approach in a few minutes. We have been forced, by circumstance, to force a final defensive stand here. I cannot promise to you that it will succeed – however I know that you will all do your best to stop that vessel escaping through the wormhole into Dominion territory.

`Starfleet has given me orders to stop that ship at any cost,' he continued, `and that may mean something that none of us wishes to contemplate – an invasion of Dominion space in pursuit of this ship. I have just spoken to Admiral Drayton, who has given me the authority to pursue the enemy into Dominion territory. But I do not wish to do that. I have every confidence in the brave officers around me to do their duty to the best of their abilities. That is all. All ships, await my order to fire. _DS9 _out.'

Riker stared at the screen in utter stunned silence for a moment before glancing at Troi, who had a similar shocked expression on her face.

Ratek and the crew of the _G'gerithau_, for their part, had just watched the intercepted transmission from the space station with open mouths. `Is he serious?' managed Relesi eventually.

`Starfleet captains tend not to joke about war and invasion,' said Ratek, still struggling to comprehend the magnitude of what they had witnessed.

`But why? They haven't got the firepower to take the Jem'Hadar on again,' said the helmsman. `They and we are too weak to go through the Dominion War all over again.'

`I don't pretend to understand the human mindset,' said Ratek, `but from experience, this is not like Starfleet at all.' He turned to face Relesi. `Place an emergency transmission through to Romulus immediately. I need to speak with the Praetor.'

Neral frowned at Ratek, disbelief on his face. `An invasion of Dominion space?'

At Ratek's nod, Neral shook his head disbelievingly. `Incredible. I can't believe that Starfleet is contemplating this.'

`We had the same idea ourselves,' Ratek reminded him gently.

`I know,' said Neral. `But we realised that our military strength was too fragile to stand a full invasion of the Gamma Quadrant. And a single heavy defeat would lead the Jem'Hadar to reinvade our Quadrant – and they wouldn't stop at just an extermination of the Cardassians this time.'

`Has there been any intelligence from the Tal Shiar to indicate that such a thing was planned?' asked Ratek.

Neral shook his head again. Ratek observed the play of thoughts on his face on the small viewscreen in the corner of the bridge. Usually proud and regal, he now looked drawn and weary. Part of that was the situation – it was the middle of the night on Romulus, and Neral was reputed to be a heavy sleeper. But it was also indicative of the way in which the galactic situation had seemed to lurch from one crisis to another in the last few years. From the new threats of the Borg, the Dominion, and the Breen, all the way to the more traditional problems of the Klingons fighting with anyone handy, the balance of power had shifted dramatically in just five years.

And one of the few things which had seemed unchanged was the Federation – that blight on the Alpha Quadrant, as all Romulan Praetors before Neral had denounced it. But Neral was forward thinking, and he saw the weaknesses inherent in the Romulan system of government. The people of the Empire had seen the prosperity and freedom of the Federation, and, more tellingly, the positive changes that had stolen quietly over the Klingons since their alliance with the Federation.

It was only a matter of time, Neral believed, before the Romulan Empire would be forced to align itself much more closely with the Federation, if only to present a combined front against the Dominion. And he could see where that would lead.

Before long, the Dominion would rebuild it's forces and launch another strike against the Alpha Quadrant. Against that attack would be rallied the forces of a combined Federation-Klingon-Romulan alliance, once again. But they would have a stronger, better prepared alliance this time, and with Cardassia being a Federation protectorate and the Breen carefully removed from the equation, it would be a resounding victory over the Jem'Hadar.

And Praetor Neral wanted to be at the forefront of that triumph – he wanted to be the great statesman that dismantled the Neutral Zone, and formed the alliance with the Federation and ended the bitter enmity with the Klingons. There was a long way to go, but it was his goal in life.

He turned his attention back to his friend. `Commander, if the Federation decides to attack the Dominion, the Romulan Empire must be seen to act swiftly. The Klingons will join the invasion immediately, so we must be ahead of them in reacting. If the Federation force enters the wormhole after failing to stop the alien ship, you are authorised to follow, decloak and offer your support to them.'

Ratek looked surprised but, to his credit, he nodded unflappably. `As you order.'

`I need you to keep me up to date with all developments,' added Neral. `Forward all reports to the Continuing Committee.'

`Sir,' said Ratek cautiously, `you do realise that you may have taken the Empire to war again without consultation with the Committee?'

Neral nodded. `Indeed I do. It may be an opportunity to shake the Empire up, Commander. Neral out.'

Ratek immediately turned to the helmsman. `Helm, bring the fleet in closer to the wormhole. Let's be prepared to lend our firepower if Starfleet needs it.'

As the invisible Romulan fleet moved forward, sweeping past the alien ship and towards _DS9_, the ship itself began to move towards _DS9_.

`Here it comes,' said Truper suddenly.

Riker stared at the screen, showing the darkness speeding towards them like a vast cloud driven by the onrushing storm. `Ready all weapons.'

The fleet fired simultaneously, a great storm of orange phaser blasts, sparkling green quantum torpedoes, and coruscating orange photon torpedoes. Every shot found its mark on the shield of the great darkness before them, bearing down like a wild tiger on its prey. Even the massive guns of _Deep Space Nine_ fired into the attacker.

From within the ship, Serisa watched in horror as the calm vista before her view exploded into fire. She felt the ship rocking as it collided with the incredible firestorm.

And beside her, Picard sat silently at last, facing away from the erupting conflagration, face calm, knowing all that was happening.

There were now only two choices – either the shield held and the giant ship entered the wormhole, or the shield fell, and he would be dead shortly, destroyed when his prison evaporated into fire. But he already knew exactly what the future held.

He knew that the defenders had failed.

The green shield held itself together.

The taskforce continued firing into the dark ship, more sporadically in obedience to the laws of physics and the length of time it took to recharge a phaser battery. Harris and the strategists had pinned their hopes on breaking through with a single barrage of fire, not realising the sheer strength of the defences arrayed against them.

The giant ship did not alter its course for one moment, and the taskforce was obliged to break up and fall from its path. Still firing, they tried to pursue as the giant ship flashed over _Deep Space Nine_, whose weapons briefly illuminated the giant's underside, but made no effect on it.

Before the Romulans could move to intercept it, before the Starfleet vessels could regroup to block it, and before anything could be done, it streaked past them all, moving far quicker than anything of it's size should. The wormhole spiralled open silently, and the giant vessel vanished into the light.

Harris stared at the screen on the Ops, stunned by the speed of the engagement. Over in less than thirty seconds. `Did we stop it?'

Kira shook her head sadly, staring at the readouts. `No, sir. It's entered the wormhole.'

`Sir!' Nog's shout carried across Ops, breaking everyone from their gloom. `I'm picking up a strange reading from the wormhole. A massive energy surge –'

`On screen,' ordered Harris, hope in his voice. `The ship might have been expelled due to its speed.'

The space that contained the wormhole was black again now, but something shimmered.

On the screen, as the entire taskforce stared with horror at the same scanner reports, fifteen huge Romulan Warbirds decloaked simultaneously. 

`Their weapons are active!' said Kira, the second the Romulan ships decloaked.

`Ready all weapons,' ordered Harris. `Target their main systems!'

`We're being hailed by the lead ship,' sadi Ezri suddenly. `He wants to speak with you, Captain,' she added, looking at Harris.

Harris nodded. `Put him on screen.'

A Romulan face appeared on the main viewer, typically arrogant. `This is Commander Ratek of the Romulan Warbird _G'gerithau_.'

`Fleet Captain Harris of the Federation,' replied Harris shortly. `Your presence in Federation space is a breach of the Neutral Zone treaty, Commander. I order your ships to return to Romulan space immediately.'

`I would appreciate it if you knew why I was here,' replied Ratek. `Captain, Praetor Neral has ordered me and my fleet to join your taskforce in hunting down the invader ship and to carry out an invasion of Dominion space if that is necessary.'

Harris paused for a moment, and then nodded. `I see,' he said, keeping his voice and face neutral despite his surprise. `I will need to speak with my superiors.'

`Understandable,' said Ratek.

`However, I must request that you power down your weapons and lower your shields. My taskforce will do the same.'

Ratek nodded. `Very well.' He glanced off the screen, and said, `_J'almar, de sheif gilaah, Relesi_.'

`The Romulans have powered down their weapons and lowered shields,' confirmed Kira.

`Order to fleet to stand down from red alert,' ordered Harris. He turned his attention back to the Romulan. `I will contact you when I have my orders,' said Harris.

`I look forward to it,' said Ratek. He disappeared from the screen.

Harris turned to Ezri. `Get me Starfleet Command.'

Pure light.

White on white.

Darkness and shadow scoured away by unforgiving brightness.

Picard screwed his eyes tightly shut to allow them a moment to adjust, and then reopened them again.

Now he was no longer in the light, but standing on a dark rocky landscape, a storm blazing overhead, purple lightning lashing the black clouds above. The sudden perspective change staggered him for a brief moment before he regained himself.

He knew where he was, despite the surprise. `I had half-expected to be here,' he said, knowing that someone would be listening.

`Not many people are seen by the Prophets, Captain,' replied an all-too familiar voice. `And even fewer are able to see the Prophets.'

`Looks like I'm one of the lucky ones,' replied Picard, turning to face the man he knew would be there. `And so were you,' he added, letting a smile cross his face.

`I like to think so,' replied the other. `But I think you may be even luckier than I,' he added.

`How do you mean?'

`I think you're long overdue asking some questions,' said Benjamin Sisko. `And I know some of the answers.' He smiled broadly. `Welcome to the Celestial Temple, Jean-Luc Picard.'


	8. The Balm of the Prophets

__

Chapter VIII

Picard stared for a moment at his former colleague. Sisko's face, unchanged since the last time they had met, still grinned at him from atop his Starfleet uniform. Picard shook his head. 'I half-expected to meet someone,' he said, 'but I wasn't sure it was going to be you.'

He sat down on a nearby rock, attempting to make himself comfortable. 'But, I suppose, with your connection to the aliens who live here, that I shouldn't be surprised at anything concerning you.'

'Probably not,' replied Sisko. He sat down on a rock opposite Picard.

The two men looked at each other for a silent moment. 'So how are you?' asked Picard after a moment.

Sisko let out a barking laugh. 'And here we have the master of interstellar diplomacy asking me how I am!'

Picard let out a rueful smile. 'Not my best, I know. Then again, I've been nowhere near my best for quite some time.'

Sisko nodded, his grin and good humour fading slightly. 'I know. We're able to see all that happens in the galaxy here,' he said. 'What's happened to you is unfortunate, but necessary.'

'It's necessary for me to suffer like this?' queried Picard, his voice tired and weary.

'Sometimes, life demands from us things like this,' replied Sisko. 'We can only hope that it's worth it.'

He suddenly seemed to take stock of their surroundings. 'Whoops,' he said. 'I didn't realise we were here.'

Suddenly everything changed around Picard. Instead of a rocky world, tortured by storms, he found himself sitting in a comfortable chair inside a large room. Bright sunlight suddenly flooded in through a large window.

He stood to look from the window, and smiled slightly. 'Starfleet Command,' he said. Before him, the Golden Gate Bridge stretched proudly across San Francisco Bay and the tall buildings of Starfleet's HQ stood tall, glittering in the bright sunlight. On the ground far below, he could see the shapes of Starfleet officers going about their duty.

Sisko stepped up alongside him to look out. 'Not quite,' he said. 'Look closer.'

Picard frowned slightly, and then noticed something strange. 'That flag over there – it's not the Federation flag. And the buildings, they're slightly different.'

Sisko nodded. 'This is Earth in the year 2406.'

'2406?' asked Picard. 'Why have you brought me here?'

'Somewhere quiet for us to talk,' said Sisko. 'To help you come to terms with what has happened.'

The taller man turned away from the window, and walked to the other side of the room. Watching him curiously, Picard also moved, to sit in the large chair.

'The Prophets are not able to communicate easily,' began Sisko, 'and they wanted me to do this. You know me, and we have worked together in the past.'

'Not closely,' said Picard. 'You have always blamed me for the death of your wife.'

Sisko smiled slightly ruefully. 'In the past, yes, that was the case. But we both have changed and moved on since then.'

'How do you mean?'

Sisko held up a hand. 'All in good time, Jean-Luc. If I rush this, I don't know what would happen, but I am led to believe that it would not be good. We must be patient.'

'Very well,' said Picard.

Sisko stared at the older man for a moment, thinking. 'Let me begin by explaining what the Prophets are, and why they have chosen to speak with you. What do you know of the Prophets?'

'They're aliens that seem to reside in the wormhole – they definitely built it, and they have in the past communicated with you and select other individuals. Not much more is known,' replied Picard.

Sisko nodded. 'From the perspective of Starfleet, that is right. But there is so much more that I've learnt about them since I –'

'Died?' asked Picard, as Sisko paused.

'Ascended,' corrected Sisko. 'I haven't died as such, although my body no longer exists outside the Temple.'

'Starfleet agrees,' remarked Picard. 'Your record officially says MIA.'

Sisko nodded. 'That is probably best.' He turned his dark eyes onto Picard. 'I see now what they mean about you, your connection to destiny.'

Picard narrowed his eyes, recalling Q's words in the _Missouri_, but Sisko continued. 'The Prophets live outside of the linear stream of time. They exist in the wormhole - indeed they built the wormhole - so that they might have somewhere to live, somewhere that they can call home. The wormhole is a series of neutrino and tachyon streams that distort time and space, connecting two distant points in the galaxy with each other. The Prophets can exist here, safely, untouchable by our science.' Sisko smiled. 'Unless they wish to touch you.'

'They wish to communicate with me?'

'They already are, Captain. I'm acting as their spokesman. They can't easily communicate with humans due to their non-linear existence.'

'But you can?' asked Picard.

Sisko nodded. 'I'm part of their race – the Emissary.'

'I was under the impression that you were uncomfortable with that moniker,' replied Picard.

'Once, yes,' replied the other, 'but I accepted that role as mine a long time ago. But we are not here to talk about me,' Sisko continued, 'We are here to talk about you.'

'What about me?'

'You're an incredibly important individual, Captain, about to fulfil your moment of destiny. But it's a destiny that might falter because of your damage.'

'Damage? What damage?' asked Picard uneasily.

'Your mind has been broken,' said Sisko, his face growing sad. 'Memories that might destroy you have been repressed.'

Picard stood quickly, nervous. 'What do you mean?' His voice was uncommonly concerned.

'I want to help you regain what was lost, and help you rediscover the strength that will allow you to win. Otherwise, all may be lost,' replied Sisko. 'I need you to trust me, Captain and let me show you the truth.' He held out a dark hand.

Picard eyed the proffered appendage for a moment, still worried, and then reached out and took it.

Sisko nodded and then led Picard towards the only door in the room. It slid open as they approached revealing a bright light that hurt Picard's eyes. Strangely, Sisko seemed unaffected by it, staring unflinchingly into the stark whiteness. 'What will I see?' asked Picard, shielding his face.

'I do not know,' said Sisko. 'These are your memories. But I know that it will be the truth.'

With that, they stepped through the door into the light.

'_He sees the present and future and past together….'_

'Is he ready for this….?'

'We cannot endanger the life of so many people for the sake of one man's sanity….'

'He has a destiny… he is the binding and the unbinding of the universe….'

'The threads of destiny weave tightly around him. Soon they will be at his command. We must do this!'

'The Sisko is right. We must….'

'Who were you speaking to?'

'The Prophets are… uncomfortable with a man like yourself here in the wormhole. They fear you.'

'Why?'

'We'll leave that for later, Jean-Luc. For now, content yourself with what was, rather than what will be.'

Picard stared at Sisko for a brief moment before recognising a look that Picard had himself perfected. Sisko would not be moved from his position.

Sisko nodded, as though listening to an internal voice, and looked away from Picard before he spoke. 'Captain, in order for all of this to make sense, I need to take it from the beginning. I need to add context, and everything that happened from the moment your memory was erased. You need to be aware that this part of the story is the most painful, and that you have already lost your mind once before because of it. It is imperative that you stay focussed throughout this. Too much will be lost if you lose out to the pain again.' Sisko's eyes were worried as he observed the other.

'Is it necessary to show me this then, if I am so important?'

Sisko nodded sadly. 'Only by remembering everything can you hope to avert what is coming. If your mind isn't strong enough to handle these old wounds, it cannot possibly be able to deal with what is coming.'

'You keep referring to a great disaster, Ben,' said Picard, 'and I'm beginning to be worried. How do you know?'

'As I said,' replied Sisko, with a trace of impatience entering his voice, 'the Prophets live in non-linear time. That means they see the future, past and present as one. And in their viewings at the moment, the universe comes to a stop in eight days.'

Picard stared at Sisko, stunned by the enormity of what he was saying. 'The universe will be destroyed?'

Sisko nodded once, aware that he had finally gotten through the importance of what they were doing to Picard. 'The Prophets know that you are centrally involved in what happens, Jean-Luc. They see you as a focal point around which the events of the next few days will occur.'

'I've heard that phrase before,' said Picard. 'Q used it to describe me once.'

Sisko nodded. 'I know. Believe me when I say I would like to explain this all to you now, Captain, but things have to happen in a certain order. I need to show you what you have lost but I cannot show you too fast or your mind may break. Events are running away from us now, and we cannot afford the luxuries of timelessness the wormhole gives us. With such an event as this approaching on the horizon, one which will affect all, we are suddenly aware of how little time we really have, even being outside of linear time-streams. We are still affected.'

Picard nodded. 'It is difficult for me, Ben,' he admitted. 'Things have moved so quickly and so much that I am having trouble finding my feet again. I am not myself, you might say.'

Sisko smiled slightly. 'We'll see about that.'

'Let's do it now,' said Picard, resolved.

__

He glanced up as the bleep of the door-knocker distracted his attention from the report he was reading. 'Come.'

Riker stepped through the door, a padd in his hand. 'New crew assignments, Captain,' he said.

Picard leaned forward slightly and took the proffered padd from his first officer.

The Enterprise_ had been in dry dock for nearly a month since the Borg attack on Earth, being repaired after the heavy damage it had sustained in the partially successful assimilation of the Starfleet vessel. Nearly ready to be unleashed again._

Too many good people had died in the battle, Picard knew, and he was always concerned about an intake of new officers and personnel onto his ships – how well they would integrate, and so on. Never easy to judge.

He glanced at Riker, standing impassively before his desk, awaiting his captain's word. 'Still, you'll soon whip them into shape, Number One?'

Riker did a slight double-take and stared at Picard. 'Sorry, sir?'

Picard smiled. 'Mind somewhere else?'

Riker smiled slightly sheepishly. 'Sorry, sir. Still a little awed by what happened last month. Taken me a while to get over the buzz.'

'It was only a short flight,' said Picard, grinning slightly.

'But, you should have been there, sir,' said Riker, launching into his memory exuberantly. 'You should have felt that ship shaking around you, and seen the stars for real –' He broke off, seeing Picard smiling at him, highly amused. 'Did I do it again?'

Picard nodded, his mirth barely contained. He ducked his head, knowing that another look at Riker's slightly embarrassed face might send him into hysterics. It didn't do for the crew to hear the captain laughing his head off.

He scanned down the list of names, pausing here and there to check certain details of service records until he reached the end.

Satisfied, he handed the padd back to Riker. 'What's next on the agenda?' asked Picard.

'We'll have the customary meet and greet,' replied Riker. 'To which it is compulsory that ship's senior officers attend. I've already had three of the senior staff try to wriggle out of it – don't try it yourself.'

'I wouldn't dream of it, Will,' responded Picard. 'I enjoy these occasions immensely.'

'If you say it anymore, Captain,' Riker said with a grin, 'I might start to believe you.'

'On your way, Commander' replied Picard, smiling.

As Riker exited the ready room, Picard turned back to the report he had been reading when a thought struck him. One of the names on that padd had seemed incredibly familiar….

'What are you showing me?'

'The past, Captain,' replied Sisko, as below them, in the illusory corridors of the _Enterprise_, crewmen walked around on their duties. 'Not your memories, this time. They will be awakened by this vision of the past.'

Picard nodded, understanding. 'Can we be a part of it?'

'You already are,' said Sisko.

Riker headed from the bridge to the turbolift, and took the lift to the new Ten-Forward facility. The actual designation for the lounge was now Eight-Starboard, but a touch of nostalgia kept the officers who had come from the _Enterprise-D_ calling it by the old name.

'Having a party, Commander?' asked Guinan, as Riker strode up to the bar.

'New officer's meet and greet,' replied Riker. He passed the padd over the bar to Guinan. 'See if there's anyone you know?'

Guinan smiled and began browsing the list. The bartender, one of the most enigmatic people Riker had ever met, also had an amazing capacity for meeting people and remembering them. Details of conversations had nearly a century ago could be recalled on command from Guinan's memory. Riker found it very useful to use Guinan's memory to give him an impression of the younger and older people soon to be joining the _Enterprise_.

Guinan shook her head and returned the padd. 'No, no-one I know. And I spent some time down in San Francisco,' she added. 'I was seeing Admiral Francis at the academy. So not to see anyone familiar is a surprise.'

Riker nodded. 'We'll need this room at 2000 hours, if that's all right?'

'You've been booked in for weeks,' replied the bartender.

'Thanks,' said Riker, turning and leaving.

'You're fidgeting,' said Troi, out of the corner of her mouth.

'I am not fidgeting, Counsellor,' replied Picard.

The senior staff, Picard, Riker, Troi, Geordi, Data and Beverly, were waiting in the transporter room, greeting the new arrivals. Although this would not normally be the case, but the new replacements were a special case. These new recruits were replacing almost all of the survivors from the _Enterprise_, many of whom were being moved to new assignments working to combat the Borg. The unique experience of the _Enterprise_ crew, the only known group to have survived a Borg assimilation, would prove invaluable for the taskforces working against them. And so, an almost completely new crew would be shipping out together in less than a week.

In those instances, Picard and his officers made it a point to greet the more senior officers, and also those marked out as star performers – those, in fact, who would probably make to the bridge and other senior positions.

They were awaiting another group of officers to beam aboard – and Picard was fidgeting.

'Sir, you really are fidgeting,' Riker said. 'It's really annoying.'

Picard ignored his first officer, concentrating his attention on standing still. For some reason, he was nervous at this moment, and he knew that this feeling was not normal for him.

'We're receiving a signal from Spacedock, Captain,' said Geordi, who was at the transporter controls. 'The next group is ready to beam aboard.'

'Very well, Mr La Forge,' replied Picard. 'Beam them aboard.'

The transporter shimmered as La Forge ran his practised fingers up the controls, without looking.

Eight figures appeared in the space before the senior staff, young, fresh-faced recruits, all of them, either straight out of the Academy, or on their first senior tour of duty. Picard enjoyed having new people in his crew – it presented a challenge.

The eight officers stood ramrod stiff at attention as they realised that Picard and the senior staff were present. 'At ease,' ordered Picard.

The young men and women relaxed slightly. Picard looked at them for a moment. 'Welcome to the USS _Enterprise_, ladies and gentlemen. This starship is the best in the fleet, as I'm sure your former commanding officers have explained to you. And I am an old burrhog, as I'm sure they've also intimated to you.'

The new officers smiled slightly, as behind Picard, Geordi and Riker both winced with the recollection. Picard continued, 'All of you have worked long and hard so that you might be rewarded with this assignment. I congratulate you for your efforts. However, it also means that you have to work long and hard to stay here. I demand the best from each member of my crew. I know that you will give your best.'

After a moment's pause, in which they realised the short speech was over, the younger ensigns started to make their way off the pad, but the three other figures, all lieutenants, remained behind, aware that Picard wished to speak to them.

These were the cream of the crop. Not only had they graduated top of their class at the Academy, but they had also performed well in the pyschological tests and in other areas that showed them to have the potential to be top officers of the future.

Picard allowed the youngest officers to leave, escorted by Troi, La Forge and Crusher, before turning his attention to those left behind. To their credit, none of them looked at all nervous. Even the best officers could look nervous at times like this.

'You all know why you're on board this ship,' said Picard. 'You're the best of the best – I don't mind telling you that. If you're half the officers your teachers think you are, then you know that as well. What I expect from those officers who have just left is half of what I expect from you. You all have bright futures ahead of you, and this is the place to realise those prospects.'

'Thank you, sir,' chorused the trio.

Riker stepped forward. 'You'll be expected in Ten-Forward at 1900 hours,' he said. 'Full dress uniform is not required. Dismissed.'

The party was in full swing by 2000 hours, the time Picard could drag himself away from his quarters and make the effort to arrive. He wore his dress uniform, not out of any desire to stand out from the crowd, but simply because he liked the new design of white jacket over a modified duty uniform. Simple yet elegant.

He wended his way through the crowds, making his way to the small knot of people that marked out his senior officers. They acknowledged him as he arrived with a slight raise of their drinks as Picard snagged one for himself from a passing waiter.

'Hello, Captain,' said Riker, his eyes roving across the crowd. 'We weren't sure you were going to make it.'

'I like to make an entrance,' responded Picard, his tone light. 'Everything fine?' he added, seeing his first officer's eyes moving.

'He's just observing young impressionable officers,' said Troi, before Riker could reply. 'He needs new blood to teach old bad habits to.'

Riker turned mock hurt eyes onto her. 'You wound me, you really do.'

'I've asked our new rising stars to join us,' added Troi.

Picard turned to see the new faces moving towards them.

At the front of the group was Lieutenant Ghia Hedly, tall and lean and blonde. Wearing security gold above her dark jumpsuit, she stood out from the crowd easily with a dominating presence that marked her far more than her height.

Behind her was Lieutenant Leanne Sturgess, another member of the superb security officers that the Academy was churning out nowadays. Since the disastrous first contact with the Jem'Hadar, Starfleet security had upped the standards of both it's training and recruiting in preparation for a possible conflict with the Dominion. Again, tall for a woman, with short cropped dark hair, she had not the same presence as Hedly, but a solid air of confidence surrounded her.

But Picard could not concentrate on these others, as behind them came radiance in human form.

For before him stood a woman. Jet black hair cascaded around her face, and eyes so soft and gentle looked upon him. An oval, delicately pale face, was framed by that luscious hair, and lips so full and lush….

Picard stopped breathing for a moment as he stared at the vision, and it was as if all of the surroundings receded and there were only the two of them in the room. He had heard the expression "Eyes meeting in a crowded room", but he had never thought it either possible or meaningful until now.

Picard had seen pictures of this young woman before, read her career record a number of times, and had appreciated her attractiveness, but never had he seen such radiance in any person before. It was as though it shone from her like a lighthouse beamed its ray to ancient ships in the oceans – like a butterfly around a light, Picard could not help but be drawn to her.

'Are you all right?' said a voice next to him.

Picard jolted out of his stunned reverie to find Troi gazing at him, her look slightly worried. 'Why?' he managed.

'Because you suddenly went very quiet and started staring in that direction,' Troi replied, indicating the trio of young officers coming towards him.

'How long?'

'About ten seconds.'

Picard's face became stone. 'I was reviewing personnel matters in my head,' he stonewalled, and turned to welcome the new officers, trying hard to slow his frantic heartrate down.

The trio all took drinks for themselves, and settled in to familiarise themselves with their new staff.

Picard tried not to look at Thames too often, all too aware that doing so would make it more obvious to his colleagues, all of whom knew him well enough to spot something like that.

Riker had just told one of his typically bad jokes, but Hedly had obviously liked it as she laughed loudly, while Sturgess and Crusher smiled politely and Geordi winced. Picard was always amused by Data's quizzically puzzled look whenever he failed to understand Riker's humour. Despite his acceptance of the emotion chip, he still had not fully grasped the concept of humour. Then again, Picard had met humans with less of a sense of humour than Data.

But then he felt his legs go weak when he heard another voice, softly speaking. He turned to find Lieutenant Thames smiling gently at him. 'Captain, I was wondering what the next mission of the _Enterprise_ is to be. I'm anxious to get out there.'

Picard smiled slightly, with more feeling than he had originally intended. 'As yet, lieutenant, I'm not allowed to say. But you'll have plenty of time to savour the taste of adventure before long.'

Captain's Log: Stardate 50990.8 – Finally, we have left Spacedock and gone into open space for the first time in a month. The _Enterprise_ is en route to_ Deep Space Nine_ for scans of the Bajoran wormhole, before continuing to the Romulan border and carrying out standard patrol sweeps. I didn't expect too much more, as the _Enterprise_ is still not ready for the hardest rigours of a life in space. She was not ready when we faced the Borg.

Picard's ready room was a sanctum of peace, close enough to the bridge for necessity, but still a place where he could come and think about any situation, away from the pressures of duty. He had always preferred using it as opposed to his lavish quarters.

He set down the padd he was reading, and rested his head in his hands, elbows on the desk, trying to concentrate. His thoughts were continuously wandering from the matter in hand.

The door bleeped. 'Come in.'

Counsellor Troi entered the room. Picard smiled at her. 'Counsellor, please sit down.'

'Thank you, sir,' she replied, dropping onto the low couch against one wall.

Deanna looked up at Picard, her dark eyes friendly, but also slightly concerned. 'Captain,' she began without preamble, 'have you seen any counsellors since we arrived back at Spacedock?'

Picard raised an eyebrow. 'No,' he replied.

Troi nodded. 'No, I didn't think you had. Why not?'

Troi's direct questioning was confusing Picard. 'Because it's not necessary, I'm fine-'

'With all respect, sir, that's my decision to make,' said Troi acidly. 'What we went through against the Borg had a tremendous impact on all of us. I had the interesting experience of counselling Data for what he had undergone. But the only person I don't have any records or reports for is you. And that worries me a great deal.'

Picard smiled, and turned away. 'I feel, and felt, fine. What happened then was a great relief of a terrible burden. You saw the amount of counselling and therapy I had to go through when I was assimilated – I look upon the battle against the Borg as the completion of that therapy.'

'Nevertheless,' countered Troi, 'you need to speak to someone, captain. As much as you may feel liberated, or happier in yourself, there is still a need to discuss, and allow us to understand your feelings. Only then can we help you more.'

Picard frowned, confused by Troi's insistence. 'Why are you so bothered, Counsellor? There have been many other occasions where I have undergone enormous stress and confrontation with my worst fears, and you have not been so concerned as now.'

Troi nodded, her face now very concerned. 'Captain, your history with the Borg is well-documented in psychiatric and counselling circles,' she began, picking her words with care. 'Many of the best analysts in the profession would give their right arm to be able to spend an hour discussing this issue with you. But this last conflict must have given you an idea of how worried this makes Starfleet Command.'

'Their refusal to allow the _Enterprise_ to join the fleet in the Typhon sector,' commented Picard.

Deanna nodded again. 'Starfleet has felt for some time that the possibility of encountering the Borg again might be a problem for your captaincy. Nobody, least of all yourself, really knows how far-reaching the consequences of your assimilation are. We've never been able to study a drone liberated from a long period of assimilation over time. This paranoia led to their decision, the wrong decision in my view,' she added, bitterly.

'And in mine,' remarked Picard acidly.

'And, although this latest conflict has proved our point, there is still a strong emotional cost to be paid in any situation like this. Starfleet has asked me to evaluate your emotional state and make a full, confidential report.'

Picard nodded, his face impassive. 'Counsellor, you know, of course, that I would have come to you if I had felt anything other than normal.'

'That's what I've always believed,' replied Troi.

'But I honestly have experienced no emotional turmoil or concerns since we returned to Earth. I used to have a recurring nightmare about the Borg, ever since I was first released from assimilation, in which they would take me away and use me again to destroy the Federation. You might have thought, given what I encountered in the last fight, that that dream might have returned. But my thoughts have been untroubled. My sleep, undisturbed.'

'Will you let me do a full psychological profile, Captain?' asked Troi formally.

'Let me think about it, Counsellor,' replied Picard quietly.

Suddenly, everything became white around Picard, drawing him away from the past and into the timeless present of the Celestial Temple. He turned confused eyes onto the dark face of Ben Sisko. 'Why are you showing me this? What possible connection could there be to my insanity?'

'You'll see,' replied Sisko quietly. 'Often, there is a need to set a scene, and to show why or when something happened. In your problem, context is a vital thing, Captain, and I need to fill in all of your back story, as irrelevant as it may seem at this moment. You will understand everything. But even being shown what you know is not always enough to understand….'

Riker glared into Data's yellow eyes. 'I don't trust him,' he said, out of the corner of his mouth, to La Forge.

'In this situation, no-one does,' replied La Forge, using his infra-red vision to peek at what Data was holding. He raised an eyebrow, and then leaned back, comfortable knowing his cards were folded on the table.

'I'll raise you ten,' said Riker calmly.

Data nodded. 'And I shall raise you… one hundred,' he replied, after a moment's thought.

Geordi shot a glance at the other players, Beverly and Deanna. 'This could get nasty,' he said.

'Don't spill any blood,' advised Deanna, facetiously.

Data threw a glance at her, but ignored the remark. Riker responded to the challenge of the raise by saying, 'I'll see your hundred, and raise a hundred more.'

Data remained imperturbable, although Geordi raised his eyebrows. 'Very well,' replied the android. 'I shall call you out, Commander.'

Riker nodded, his expression not changing as he laid his cards down, revealing a pair of twos. Data's expression did not crack either, as he laid down a pair of threes.

The five officers all stared at the two hands before Geordi and Riker began laughing. 'I can't believe that someone actually bluffed you,' said Geordi.

'I'm more gutted that it was him,' replied Riker. 'You're not supposed to be able to do that.'

'I apologise, Commander,' said Data calmly, his emotion chip switched off. 'But I felt I was in a good position and that backed me up.'

Riker stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head. 'Twenty years of playing the game and that's the first time I've been called and beaten on a bluff.'

'There's a first time for everything,' said Crusher philosophically.

'And for everyone,' added Troi, eliciting puzzled glances from her friends.

'How do you mean?' asked Riker, knowing that often Troi dropped remarks such as those into conversations as a means of bringing something to their attention.

'Well,' sighed Troi, 'have any of you noticed that Captain Picard has been something of a recluse just lately?'

Data nodded. 'Captain Picard has not attended any of our weekly games since stardate 50775.'

'That would place it just after the Borg attack,' said Geordi.

Troi nodded. 'I tried to confront him about it yesterday. I even disguised it as a matter Command wanted me to look into,' she added ruefully.

Riker raised an eyebrow. 'That was careless, Deanna.'

'I know. But I so badly wanted to speak to him about it. Is he hiding some sort of emotional trauma?'

'You're best leaving him,' said Crusher gently. 'If he wants to talk to someone, he'll come to you sooner or later.'

'Not necessarily,' said Troi despondently. 'He's very obstinate when it comes to talking about his feelings – remember when his brother and nephew died? I had to chase him down before he would confront it.'

'Are you sure he's as bad as you think?' asked Geordi. When Troi frowned at him, he continued, 'Well, it's just that at the party the other day, when we met the new officers for the first time proper, did you catch him staring at Lieutenant Thames?'

'No,' said Riker, leaning in conspiratorially. 'Do tell.' The others pricked up their ears as well.

Geordi smiled, knowing how large an appetite Riker had for shipboard gossip, especially concerning his friends. 'It's not much, I know, but he seemed to be trying to spend more time talking to Lieutenant Thames than to the others.'

Deanna nodded. 'I saw him staring at the new officers when he arrived at the party. But he tried to brush it off – in hindsight, that should have been a big clue itself.'

'It's not like the captain to get the hots for new staff,' said Riker.

'No, that's your job usually,' Crusher interjected testily, eliciting a laugh from Deanna.

This comment cooled any interest the others had in discussing the news, and for half an hour afterward, cards were dealt and games were played in the quiet atmosphere of a group of friends who had been through it all together, and knew each other so well that nothing needed to be said.

The door bleeped suddenly. As they were in Geordi's quarters, the engineer answered, 'Come in.'

The door slid aside, and the quintet looked around to see Picard in the doorway.

Troi smiled at him. 'Captain, please join us.'

Picard smiled sheepishly and shook his head. 'Actually, I'd like to borrow Commander Riker for a moment, if you please.'

Picard stepped back into the corridor, as Riker threw a bemused glance at the others and followed him.

Picard faced Riker as the door to Geordi's quarters slid shut. 'Will, I need your help.'

A faint grin crossed Riker's face. 'How so, sir?'

Picard looked pained. 'I'm on my way to speak to the new arrivals again, to go through some of the fine detail regarding their new postings.'

'Including Lieutenant Hedly's promotion.' Picard looked unaccountably relieved when Riker mentioned Hedly's name, and nodded quickly.

Riker frowned. 'But that's something I usually do.'

'I know, but I thought that it was only fair that I myself explained the reasons behind my decision. Besides,' added the captain of the _Enterprise_, 'you're off-duty.'

'I was planning on doing it tomorrow,' said Riker plaintively.

'Nevertheless, I'm not busy at the moment, so I left the bridge in the hands of Commander Kolchak and came down here.'

'Kolchak's never taken the bridge before,' replied Riker.

'I know,' said Picard off-handedly. 'However, there's nothing happening, and I'm not exactly far away.'

Riker nodded reluctantly. 'What do you need my help for?'

Picard's speech became slightly hesitant. 'Well, Lieutenant… Hedly and the others have never served aboard a frontline starship before. Indeed, Lieutenant T – Thames has never served aboard any starship before and I thought it would be good, in terms of their happiness here, to acclimatise them quickly with the surroundings.'

For the first time, Riker had a feeling that Picard was searching for reasons to explain what he was doing. It was an uncomfortable feeling from a man usually so resolute in his actions. He interrupted, to spare Picard anymore embarrassment. 'I understand, Captain. I'll pay a visit to the bridge at 2100,' he added. 'You can go off-duty now if you wanted.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'I think I may just do that, Number One. Have a nice evening.'

Riker went back into Geordi's quarters, sat, and looked at the others, his expression puzzled. 'Okay, now I believe the captain's acting funny.'

Picard made his way slowly down the corridor, leading from Lieutenant Hedly's quarters in order to give himself time to think.

Hedly had received her assignment and had revealed only a trace of the excitement that Picard knew she had felt when he had told her. She was calm and unflappable, and they were good traits in any security chief. He was pleased with his choice.

He had also spoken with Lieutenant Sturgess regarding her position aboard the _Enterprise_. Despite being a talented officer, Sturgess had been unfortunate enough to end up in the same department and same ship as Hedly, a superior officer, and therefore would not make the advancement her abilities merited. Privately, Picard thought that she would leave the _Enterprise_ for a top position on another starship within the next year. She deserved it.

So what was he doing now? He had no news of genuine significance to give Lieutenant Thames, and at the back of his mind, Picard knew that he was doing what he was doing so that he might see her again. 'I'm behaving like a lovestruck schoolboy,' he whispered to himself in an annoyed tone of voice, but made no effort to stop himself. Riker and the others must have guessed by now.

He stopped at the door of her quarters, and, unconsciously, checked that the corridor was clear on both sides before pressing the knocker. 'Come in,' said her musical voice. The door slid aside.

Picard took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

Thames glanced up as she heard Picard enter, and then suddenly jumped to her feet at attention as she realised who it was. Picard smiled tolerantly. 'At ease, Lieutenant. This is a business call.'

Thames relaxed slightly, and said, 'Would you like to sit down, Captain? A drink?'

Picard nodded and sat on the low couch under the windows. 'An Earl Grey, please,' he replied to the latter question.

Thames moved over to the far side of the room where she busied herself, much to the interest of Picard, in making a cup of tea in the traditional way. When she presented Picard with a beautifully fragrant Earl Grey a few minutes later, he had no cause for complaint.

He savoured the tea and then looked quizzically at Thames, who sat down opposite him. 'I usually use the replicator.'

Thames smiled. 'Sorry, captain, I just like to do it the old-fashioned way.'

Picard nodded, took another sip of the tea and then put the cup down. 'Lieutenant, I'm here to talk about what you'll be doing on the _Enterprise_. Unfortunately, there are very few posts for non-specialist science officers aboard the _Enterprise_ any longer, and as you are not a specialist in any particular field, it means that you will have to be moved into a back-up role for the time being, until something more solid comes up.'

Thames nodded, her expression unchanged. Picard forged on, trying not to look in her eyes, 'You'll be assigned under Lieutenant-Commander Brigeda, and you will act as ancillary support to the bridge and other critical areas. You'll put in time on the bridge, Astrometrics, engineering, and whichever other departments require you. Understood?'

Thames nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

Picard sighed and leant back. 'Does any of this worry you at all? I mean, it might have a damaging effect on your career. I say this not to alarm you or to give you cause to think I might not want you here, for I do, I mean….'

Picard's voice trailed off as he realised that he was rambling. He coughed, and went on, 'Captain Latimer of the USS _Thunderchild_ has made it known that he wants a non-specialist Operations commander. That would be a big step up the promotion ladder. If you wanted, I would approve a transfer request.'

Thames sat back as well, not taking her eyes off Picard, who was starting to have trouble avoiding her gaze. 'Captain, the reason I chose not to specialise while at the Academy was because I wanted to progress up the promotion ladder. But I also wanted to serve aboard the _Enterprise_. I requested this posting. I am prepared to do anything to serve –' She broke off for a second, before adding, '- the ship.'

'But you chose sciences, rather than command training.' replied Picard.

'Because I wanted to do something that I was naturally good at. I hold four Master's degrees in science related subjects outside of the Academy, but when I joined the Academy, I wanted to do more work in shipboard operations and focus myself on command. But because of my background, I was continually being diverted into scientific areas by my tutors.'

'How much command training have you done?'

'I've passed all of the simulator and psychological tests, but I couldn't take any of the classes in first contact or diplomacy or any of the normal command lessons simply because they conflicted with my science subjects.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'It's not necessary to have taken all of those classes in order to reenter the command section this early in your career. There is plenty of time for you to learn these skills.'

'I don't want to leave, sir,' said Thames quietly, her dark eyes focussing on him again.

Picard got the sense of something unspoken behind what she had just said, but left it. He stood. 'Very well, lieutenant. If you want to bide your time, that's your decision. But remember, the offer would still stand.'

Unwillingly, Picard said, 'Goodbye,' and left the room quickly, before he might get drawn back.

Thames sat in her chair, staring sadly after him, and said quietly, 'Would you really want me to leave, Jean-Luc?'

Picard stared grimly at what he was seeing. 'I remember it all, Ben, now. All of my feelings for her. From the first moment I met her, I loved her beyond words.'

Sisko nodded. 'I know, Jean-Luc.'

'But why would this damage me so badly?' Picard turned tortured eyes on Sisko, but the other could only smile sadly, as Picard was taken back.

Picard stepped onto the bridge of the _Enterprise_ from the forward turbolift, and smiled to himself.

The _Enterprise_ was four days out from _Deep Space Nine_, quietly cruising along the Neutral Zone border.

It was the beginning of the day shift, and Picard threw quiet greetings to Data, and Riker, both of whom were early onto the bridge. He sat down and began checking through the duty logs and other details that sprung onto the chair's command console.

After a few moments, the rest of the duty shift spilled onto the bridge, with the helm officers swapping positions and Hedly taking over from the nightwatch officer.

As everyone settled in for the duration, Picard enjoyed feeling the ambience of a busy ship and hearing the sound of a ship that belonged where it was.

A bleeping broke through the background hubbub of the bridge. Data turned to face Picard and the rest of the bridge, a trace of intrigue on his face. 'Captain, I'm reading a small, type-one subspace anomaly in the Neutral Zone.'

Picard glanced at Riker, stood and walked over to Data's station. 'Is it dangerous?'

The horror began.

No-one should be forced to live through their worst nightmares, thought Sisko, but this was what he was doing to Picard, a man he respected, and secretly called friend. Sisko remembered every moment of what happened against the Aralla, and his experiences with the Prophets helped him to come to terms with having two sets of differing memories in his head. But it was not easy.

What Picard was undergoing was the same process, but with no support or help to reconcile the two – it was impossible for a human mind to survive such a torment as having separate, unrelated memories that filled exactly the same time span.

And yet he had successfully done that until someone had intervened and blocked the memories from him. Sisko didn't know the full story of what had happened, or why it had happened, but he knew that once Picard had his memories and knew what had happened to him, then the final pieces of the jigsaw might fall into place at last.

Sisko turned, and found Picard knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his face but eyes closed tightly. Slowly, the older man turned to face Sisko, his face ashen, and opened his eyes.

Sisko recoiled backwards from Picard's gaze. He had seen those eyes before, the burning fire in them, a fire that had burned the Aralla from existence, but one which also tortured Picard's soul. And he knew, in that second, that Picard had survived.

Picard stood, and turned himself towards Sisko. 'I can remember it all now, Ben,' he said slowly, the intensity in his voice belying his calm demeanour. 'I don't know whether to thank you or to hate you.'

'I don't mind,' said Sisko calmly. 'What matters is that you have your memories back, and that you are no longer in danger. How much do you remember?'

'All of it,' replied Picard. 'Every moment, from the second we discovered the subspace anomaly, to the moment when the final mother ship destroyed Unicomplex 001. I can even see my wife's face, dying in holographic dust before I took Admiral Nechayev and blew her brains out. I remember it all, and I feel like my heart no longer beats. I have lost everything, Ben, and gained nothing for the slaughter which I perpetrated.'

The two men stared at each other for a silent moment, before Sisko looked away. 'I'm sorry, Captain, but it was necessary.'

Picard smiled. 'I know, Ben. Sometimes, we do the things that we have to do when they are the things we least want to do. The first duty of a Starfleet officer is to the truth. I remember telling Wesley Crusher that a long time ago. You've shown me the truth. Now, at least, I can mourn properly.'

'For your wife?'

Picard shook his head, half-smiling bitterly. 'I have eighty billion people to grieve for first, Ben, before I can even think of myself. No, I will never grieve for Rosanna. I don't know if I even can any longer.' He paused. 'Take me back to that room we started in.'

Within a blink of an eye, they were there, sunlight streaming through the window again. 'I remember this place now,' said Picard. 'This is where I spent the last hours of my life in this reality. Q visited me.'

Sisko frowned suddenly. 'Q?'

'He came here to me and took me back to our universe. He said that we had been tested and that the Aralla were our test.'

'High price for any examination,' commented Sisko.

Picard didn't acknowledge him, lost in his own recollection. 'I was waiting for Rosanna to come home,' he said. 'I wanted so much to see her again, to feel her in my arms, and see the love in her eyes….'

Unbidden, tears rose in his eyes, spilling onto his cheeks. 'I want nothing more than that, to see her again. I would give it all up just to see her face again, to see her smiling at me for one last time. All I have is a handful of dead memories, which damaged me so much that I couldn't be allowed to remember her! And she died for nothing but revenge!' He screamed to whoever would listen. '_She didn't deserve this!'_

Picard crumpled to his knees, shoulders bent under the weight of the grief he had carried in his heart for so long. He wept for the first time, able to release the pain he had unknowingly borne. In his madness, his emotional turmoil, he had wept and cried the torments of a thousand damned souls over and over again, but had never been able to release any of that pain and anguish and let go. He could not do that, for he did not know where that pain came from.

As the sunlight shone down on the shaking body of Jean-Luc Picard, freed at last from emotional bonds his mind could barely contemplate, Sisko watched silently as the healing process began, knowing that the long struggle for emotional balance was finally over. Picard had wrested back control of his own mind. 

He was, finally, whole again.


	9. Surprises

__

Chapter IX

'How much do you remember, Ben?'

'Most of it.'

'How?'

Ben Sisko smiled to himself. 'I'm not quite sure.'

Picard looked away thoughtfully. The two men were still in Picard's office on the illusory Earth, although the skies had darkened a little with the onset of twilight.

Picard had slowly recovered from his rage and grief, no longer carrying that burden in his heart. His emotional outpouring had borne it away from him, and although he still felt the sadness and bitter despair over his wife's death, it no longer crushed him. He now sat in a chair that he knew well, but at the same time could not recognise. 'Do you know how strange it is to have two sets of memories in your mind at the same time?'

Sisko smiled again, this time almost ruefully. 'I do indeed.'

'Why do you remember so much of it?' asked Picard.

Sisko settled himself more firmly into his own chair opposite Picard, thinking through his own experiences with the alternate universe. 'I'm not sure,' he said, 'but I think it is related to why I'm here now. Because I'm not fully human, because my mother was one of the Prophets, it's given me a perspective outside of normal time and space. Part of me instinctively comprehends the universe as not strictly based on linear time and events – in essence, that things tend not to happen one after the other.'

'Cause is not always followed by effect?'

'Exactly.' Sisko sighed. 'While we experienced the alternate universe, I recall that none of it felt strange, or that it should not be happening.'

'Other than what you might feel, given the circumstances,' interjected Picard, smiling.

'Indeed. But once you were returned, and it all changed, I was left with these memories, ones which faded quickly, but always remained with me. Every time I left _DS9_ on any business, I always had this afterimage in my mind of it's destruction by the Aralla.'

'I know what you mean,' said Picard. 'I always had the thought of the Aralla destroying the Borg Unicomplex when we finally achieved our victory in my mind. For some reason, that act on it's own seemed to personify the Aralla to me.'

'I knew then,' said Sisko, continuing, 'that you were at the centre of it all. You were too centrally placed in all of it for it not to have been about you.'

'You were President –'

'And you were the supreme leader of everyone for longer than I care to think about. You had the pressure of being the sole representative for the Alpha Quadrant – the one man everyone's fears and hopes rested on. That was a much greater burden to bear than I ever carried. It had to have been about you. Do you know why?'

Picard shook his head, accepting Sisko's point. 'No. When Q brought me back, he told me that it was a test, and that I was special in some way. He said that I am unique in the universe.'

'How so?'

Picard started to speak, and then paused. 'I have to be honest, I don't really understand it myself. He told me that I had no counterpart in any of the parallel universes that exist beyond our own, and that because of that I was special; but if I'm honest, it made little sense to me at the time, and three years and many events down the line, even less sense now.'

The two men sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the opportunity to relax and plan without the constraints of time. For once Picard, who had felt that he had been running a losing race against time over the last few years, had space to take a breath and work out what he was going to do next.

But it was too dangerous to do that, Picard also knew. The wormhole was like the nexus, where he had once met James Kirk. The temptation to do nothing was too strong – the attraction of infinity to plan was a call to idleness. He had to take action. After the Aralla were defeated, then he might take more time to look back on what had happened to him, but for now, the mission – the battle – was all.

With great reluctance, Picard stood up and looked down at Sisko, straightening the front of his uniform in his unconscious manner. 'Ben, I thank you for what you've done so far.'

'Anytime,' replied Sisko casually.

'I hope not,' said Picard, a smile fleeting across his face. 'But I need your help one last time.'

Sisko stood and faced Picard. 'I can't, Jean-Luc. We could only do this.'

'The Aralla can't be allowed to exit the wormhole on the Gamma Quadrant side. If they do, Harris will take the fleet through and before you know it, we'll have the Dominion War II on our hands. You don't want that, do you?'

Sisko looked pained. 'The Prophets have already told me that they wish to detach themselves from the linear universe once again until I have helped them to a greater understanding of who and what we are. I don't know if I can persuade them –'

'You've got to try, Ben,' said Picard, his face and voice still calm. 'You're the only one who knows how big a threat the Aralla are.'

Sisko fell silent for a moment, and then said slowly, 'I think I can persuade them to reject the Aralla ship. To all intents and purposes, it's still in the wormhole at this moment, and you're still aboard it. If I can, you'll be returned to the same moment in time, but you'll still be captive.' At Picard's look, he hastily added, 'It's the best I can do. The Prophets won't bend space as well as time because that could create temporal paradoxes that might be even worse than what may happen in eight days. Remember that. You have eight days.'

'I will,' said Picard.

Sisko smiled slightly. 'It's funny. I never really got chance to say goodbye to the people I worked with on _Deep Space Nine_. But I get to give you a proper send-off. It's odd how the universe works….'

'It is indeed,' replied Picard, reaching out and shaking Sisko's hand. 'I hope that I can see you again, Ben.'

'I wouldn't expect to,' replied Sisko. 'Please, if you get a chance, say goodbye to everyone for me.'

The white light Picard had seen when he had first come into the wormhole blinded him, obscuring Sisko from his vision and he merely whispered, 'I will.'

'What the hell are they doing?' asked Riker, jolted to his feet by the sudden appearance of the Romulan fleet.

'The Romulan fleet is positioned between the taskforce and the wormhole,' reported the Ops officer. 'They are making no aggressive moves.'

'Beside decloaking in the middle of the Federation,' commented La Forge.

'In the middle of a war zone,' added Troi.

'Have we any commands from Captain Harris?' Riker directed his question at the tactical officer.

'Captain Harris has ordered the fleet to stand down – he has reached an understanding with the Romulan commander.' Troi raised her eyebrow and directed a puzzled look at Riker.

'That's a first,' said Riker, turning and looking at the viewer again.

'Confirmed,' said Ops, 'the Romulans have lowered their shields and powered down their weapons.'

'Do the same,' ordered Riker.

'We're receiving a message from _DS9_,' said the tactical officer.

'On screen.' Riker turned and sat in the command chair as Harris' face appeared on the viewscreen.

'Captain Harris to fleet. The Romulan ships are non-hostile vessels for the moment. They wish to aid us in our search for the unidentified ship. For the moment we are –'

Harris was cut off as static overwhelmed the signal. 'What's the problem?' asked Riker.

'We are picking up elevated neutrino levels from the wormhole,' reported La Forge, his voice surprised.

'What does that mean?' asked Troi.

'A ship is about to exit the wormhole on this side.'

The wormhole flared into iridescent life, spiralling open, stunning everyone in the fleet who could see it.

From it's giant maw came the black shape of the Aralla city destroyer. It's vast bulk swept over the assembled ships, casting its pall of fear over all.

Riker stared at the giant ship, stunned. 'What the hell?'

For a moment, no-one could react to what they were seeing. All they could do was stand and stare.

In that situation, the first one to react takes the prize.

Picard leapt to his feet, startling Serisa from her huddled crouch. He stared from the window and clenched his fist victoriously as he saw the distant shape of _DS9_ and the fleet. He turned to Serisa, ready to give his orders, galvanised, when he saw the marks on her. 'Dear god, what happened?'

'You,' replied the Romulan icily.

'Me?' gaped Picard, not knowing what she meant. 'When?'

'Just before we entered the wormhole.'

Picard stepped back, and glanced at his hands. Indeed, they were covered with traces of green blood. 'I'm sorry, I had –' He paused, brought himself back. 'I apologise deeply. I was insane.'

'Are you now?' asked Serisa, barely keeping her temper from snapping.

Picard tried hard not to smile, knowing how good he felt to be back. 'Not anymore. And what's more, I know a way out.'

'You do?' Serisa tried to stand, and suddenly felt dizzy from the blow to her face.

Picard held out his hand to her, and she gazed at it warily for a moment and then looked into Picard's face. He smiled gently. 'Please believe me, I am not going to hurt you.'

She saw in his eyes the truth there, and recognised the burning fires in his soul, knowing that he only wanted to harm one thing in the universe – the creatures who held them captive. She reached out and grabbed his hand.

The Starfleet captain pulled the Romulan to her feet and helped her steady herself. 'Are you okay?'

Serisa nodded, pulling away to stand alone for a moment, before smiling at him. 'Yes, thank you.'

Picard hid his smile, turning his attention to their cell, feeling his hatred boiling up within him. With an effort, he forced it down, knowing all the while that it was sane anger, not the unfocussed rage he had felt before. He knew what he was looking for, and found it a few moments later.

He knelt down in the corner of the room beneath the large window as Serisa watched him, slightly confused by his somewhat strange actions. 'What are you doing?'

'This,' replied Picard. He drew back his elbow and rammed it into the wall. A small panel popped off and clattered onto the deck before him.

Serisa was next to him a moment later, gazing into the hole he had uncovered. Behind the panel, a series of filaments and circuits had been exposed, all connecting to a small computer interface, giving Picard a glimpse into what the Aralla hid behind their dark bulkheads. 'What is it?' asked Serisa.

'If I'm right,' replied Picard thoughtfully, 'this is part of the transporter system that they used to bring us aboard.' He sat back, looking puzzled. 'But they never figured out transporters.'

'They?' asked Serisa.

Picard ignored the question, and kept thinking. 'Unless they've come into contact with another species who can use a transporter, and they've been able to capture it….'

'Who are we talking about?' asked Serisa, knowing that she was not involved in the conversation.

Picard stared at her for a moment, before he said, 'We have been captured by a race known as the Aralla. They move between planets, destroying all that stands before them. They cannot be assimilated by the Borg, they cannot be damaged unless their shields are lowered, and that is incredibly difficult, and there are more of them then there are of us.'

Serisa stared at him for a moment in stunned silence. 'You're making this up.'

'I wish,' grunted Picard, turning his attention to the panel again.

'How long have Starfleet known about this… Aralla?'

'Starfleet knows nothing of them,' replied Picard. 'I possess in my mind all of the knowledge about the Aralla that anyone knows.'

'Forgive me if I appear sceptical,' retorted Serisa.

'I don't care,' said Picard matter-of-factly. 'All that matters is that we get out of here.' He sat back and looked at her quizzically. 'Do you know anything about configuring annular confinement beams to focus a tight-beam comm channel on a receiver?'

'I've done it two or three times,' said Serisa, still smarting after such a peremptory dismissal of her questions. 'It's standard training for all Romulan fleet personnel.'

'Is it now?' Picard moved out of Serisa's way as she sat herself in front of the panel.

Serisa reached in and started pressing controls behind the wiring, trying to make sense of the alien configuration. 'I only hope that their computer systems are similar to ours.'

'They are,' said Picard confidently.

Serisa glanced at Picard, and said, 'You appear to be fully functioning again.'

Picard sensed the implicit question. 'It's complicated, believe me.' He didn't feel up to explaining Ben Sisko and the Prophets just yet.'

'Which ship do you want me to focus the beam on?'

'The _Enterprise_,' said Picard. 'If I can get a message through to them, we can co-ordinate a rescue attempt.'

Serisa nodded, and programmed in the co-ordinates. 'You do realise that if their shields are not up, this will not work.'

'Against this thing?' Picard smiled. 'They'll be up.'

'Shields up!' shouted Riker, as he finally reacted to what they saw on the screen. 'Ready all weapons, and prepare for attack manoeuvring!' He moved to stand next to Data. 'Give me an idea of what that ship's doing. And find out why it's come back? Is there any sign of a Jem'Hadar fleet?'

'No sign of any Dominion ships,' replied La Forge, who had moved to take over the Ops position. 'The unidentified ship is cruising at 0.7 of light speed. It is possible that it was ejected due to moving too fast. The event horizon will not admit ships moving at faster than one-third impulse power.'

'But the event horizon opened and closed,' replied Riker. 'We saw it go in.'

'There is another theory,' said Geordi, swinging slightly around so that he could look directly at Riker. He lowered his voice. 'Captain Sisko of _Deep Space Nine_ often claimed that the wormhole was built by aliens living inside it, and that they were the "Prophets", the gods of the Bajoran religion. But every test that Starfleet carried out came up negative.'

'But a stable wormhole is pretty unusual in itself,' replied Riker.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded on La Forge's console, one that did not sound very often. He turned back to his board. 'Commander, a transporter beam is attempting to penetrate our shields. It is coming from the alien ship.'

'Is it causing any disruption?'

La Forge frowned at his panel. 'What the hell-? It's creating a resonance harmonic within the shield barrier –'

'Picard to _Enterprise -'_ The tinny, echoing voice seemed to come from all around them.

Riker's eyes widened. He whirled to face tactical. 'Is that a comm channel?'

The young officer shook her head, looking as surprised as Riker. 'We are receiving no communications at the moment.'

'Then what -?'

'Sir, the resonance in the shields is acting as a relay for a voice message,' said Geordi suddenly. 'The confinement beam of a transporter is acting as a microphone and our shields as a receiver!'

'Picard to _Enterprise_, come in.'

Riker glanced at La Forge, who shrugged. 'Captain?'

'Will, it's good to hear your voice again.' The voice was still tinny, but perfectly recognisable as Picard's voice, and the relief was unmistakable.

'Captain, where are you?'

'Aboard the Aralla ship, Number One. We've managed to use their transporter system as a comm relay. I can't talk for long. We need a way off.'

Riker suddenly felt confidence surging through him for the first time in weeks. 'I can arrange that, sir. Can you lower their shields?'

'I'm afraid not,' replied Picard, unable to stop a smile from crossing his face. 'But you can beam straight through the shields on this ship, Will. You just need to get into transporter range.'

'Understood,' said Riker's voice. 'Just –'

A blaze of static erupted over the transmission, and Riker's voice vanished suddenly. Picard looked at Serisa. 'What happened?'

Serisa looked at him, worry in her eyes. 'They know.'

'We lost the signal. Looks like the beam was cut off,' said Geordi.

'Riker to Data.'

'Data here, Commander.'

'Go ahead, Data,' said Riker, who sat down in the centre chair. 'Just lock on and beam him out.'

Data looked at Hedly, puzzled. 'Their shields are still up,' he replied.

'Don't worry about them, Data,' replied Riker. 'We'll cover you.'

'Acknowledged,' replied Data. 'Beginning our run.'

'Get me Captain Harris,' said Riker.

Harris' face appeared. He looked annoyed. 'What is it, Commander?'

'We've established contact with Captain Picard,' said Riker. 'I'm launching an operation to retrieve him.'

'_What?!_' shouted Harris, his face twisted with anger. 'Permission denied!'

'I wasn't asking for permission,' said Riker casually.

'Stand down, Commander,' demanded Harris. 'That's an order!'

'No, sir. You'll have to just follow us in or watch us get killed. Riker out.'

Riker turned to Lieutenant Truper. 'Attack vector, Lieutenant,' he ordered.

'Aye, sir,' responded Truper enthusiastically.

'Shields up, weapons ready.' Riker's face set determinedly. 'Attack.'

Harris watched angrily as the _Enterprise_ swept towards the distant dark ship, still cruising in a straight line away from the wormhole. Kira turned worried eyes on him. 'Are we going to send the fleet to help?'

Harris paused, and then shook his head. 'If Riker wants to commit suicide, that's up to him.'

'We're getting a signal from the _Delphi_,' said Ezri Dax.

'On screen.' Captain Gastrovicz's face appeared.

'Sir, we also received that message from the _Enterprise_. Request permission to go in and draw some fire for them.'

Harris put a hand to his face wearily. 'No, Captain. Commander Riker is risking the fleet to save one man. I will not support such a rash action.'

Gastrovicz's face clouded. 'Sir, we've all supported your actions with regards Commander Riker and the _Enterprise_, but Picard is the best officer in the Fleet. If we don't help the _Enterprise_, then we have no right to call ourselves Starfleet officers.'

Harris stared silently at Gastrovicz's face for a long time before finally nodding. 'Very well, Captain. But I will note this in my log.'

Gastrovicz looked unfazed. '_Delphi_ out.'

Gastrovicz was the most senior captain in the taskforce besides Harris, and he had met Picard on several occasions. Each time, he had been impressed by the other's ability as a starship captain, but more than that, he had seen the utter dedication in his crew, and their fierce loyalty to their captain. There had not been one single transfer request ever made by an officer aboard either _Enterprise_ that Picard had commanded, and all of his senior officers had turned down top-line promotions to either captaincy or senior command level.

Gastrovicz knew, because he had twice tried to poach Lieutenant Truper to become a commander aboard the _Delphi_. Both times, Truper had knocked him back to remain on the _Enterprise_, even though it damaged his prospects of command in the future.

Gastrovicz knew that a man who inspired that sort of loyalty, allied to that immense ability, was worth the lives of a Starfleet crew. Sometimes, a sacrifice was worth it.

He turned to face his tactical officer. `Get me Captains Solvek and Hainby. I want them to know what I'm doing.'

Within moments, Solvek and Hainby, captain of the _Texas_, appeared on the main screen. `Captains,' began Gastrovicz, `I've just won us permission to support the _Enterprise_ in her attempt to rescue Picard.'

Hainby smiled grimly, while Solvek nodded silently. Gastrovicz continued, `I want you to help me co-ordinate the attack. Solvek, I want your ships to join me in taking fire from the _Enterprise_. Hainby, you take the _Texas_, _Livingston_, _Kyoto _and _Magnum _and maintain a holding pattern around _DS9_. We don't know what the Romulans are here for.'

`Acknowledged,' replied Solvek.

Hainby looked slightly worried. `If you should have trouble….'

`Let Captain Harris make that call,' replied Gastrovicz. `_Delphi_ out.'

He turned to the helmsman. `Helm, set course for the unidentified ship. Prepare for multi-vector assault mode.'

The _Delphi_ and _Prometheus_ turned sharply from their face-off with the Romulan fleet, and leapt towards the _Enterprise_, bearing down on her foe. Astern, the four _Defiant_-class starships followed them, looking anxious to draw blood from their enemy.

Ignoring them, the giant ship continued on its way almost serenely until the _Enterprise_ caught up with it.

`We're coming into weapons range,' said the tactical officer. Riker continued to glare at the screen.

`Where's the shuttle?'

`She's about twenty thousand kilometres off the port bow,' said Truper.

`Make sure we distract that ship,' said Riker. `Open fire.'

Phaser beam lanced into the shields surrounding the giant ship, causing no effect but a stunning pyrotechnic display. A moment later, two volleys of quantum torpedoes followed up, exploding against the shields in a blast larger than the _Enterprise_ itself. But there was simply no reaction.

No attack planes launched, and no fire was forthcoming from the ship itself. Before the _Enterprise_ could gather itself for another attack, the rest of the taskforce commenced their strike.

Pulses of phaser fire and volleys of photon torpedoes hammered the ship, but it continued on its casual way, unhurried by the frenzied attack by the Starfleet ships.

`Sir, there has been no activity from the unidentified ship,' said Truper, his face puzzled. `They are making no moves to defend themselves.'

`They hardly need to with those shields,' replied Riker.

`But their previous actions would indicate that they would retaliate,' added Troi.

Riker rubbed his beard thoughtfully. `I know.'

`We're being hailed by Captain Gastrovicz,' said the tactical officer.

`On screen,' replied Riker.

Gastrovicz's face appeared. `Commander, I've organised the taskforce into a support for your attack.'

Riker smiled. `Thank you, sir. How did you sneak that one past Captain Harris?'

`I'm not sure I did,' replied Gastrovicz. Co-ordinate your attack with us, and please tell me what your plans are.'

Riker nodded, pleased by the captain's support. `Thank you, sir. Transmitting attack plans to your station now.'

`We've left the rest of the taskforce at _DS9_,' added Gastrovicz. `Commander, this is your guy. You're taking command of the fleet.'

Riker's eyes widened. `Captain, I assumed you would –'

`That may be, Commander,' interrupted Gastrovicz. `This is an order – you're in command.'

Riker couldn't repress a smile at Gastrovicz's slightly flippant tone. `Understood, sir.'

The first officer of the _Enterprise_ took the centre chair, and suppressed an overwhelming surge of euphoria. He glanced at Troi, and she smiled, pleased, at him. `Give me an open channel to all ships,' said Riker.

`Open,' replied the tactical officer.

`_Enterprise_ to fleet,' said Riker. `Attack pattern Omega, targeting lower southern quadrant of enemy vessel. Attack!'

The seven starships all launched themselves at their enemy, unleashing their devastating power against it in a riot of energy. Phaser beams and photon torpedoes all slammed into the giant's shields, shining bright against the darkness.

Amid all of this chaos and violence, a tiny object slipped unnoticed into the maelstrom, sliding past the sensors of the giant vessel.

`We're clear of the battle zone,' declared Hedly. `Approaching shields.'

`Begin sensor sweeps of the ship, searching for human lifesigns.'

Hedly glanced at Data, knowing that what they were doing would set off alarms right across the enemy vessel. Hopefully, the confusion and vast amounts of discharged energy from the _Enterprise_ and her taskforce would distract the sensors well enough that they might not be noticed. `Commencing scans.'

Picard stared from the large window, angled away from the battle raging around them, although he caught the occasional glimpse of one of the taskforce circling the city destroyer, readying itself for another attack.

He clenched his fists anxiously, unable to do anything, and highly frustrated. But he was finally taking affirmative action. He turned to Serisa. `Any luck yet?'

The Romulan shook her head. She was laid on the deck, arms inside the open panel, and circuitry and wires strewn around her. After Picard had quickly explained the design of the Aralla computer systems as being remarkably centralised, Serisa had figured out that the controls for such a system would have to be routed through one processor – meaning that they would be able to access most of the local controls for the cell in one single panel. `They're not quite as straightforward as you made out,' she said, voice frustrated.

`You're looking for the main computer access terminal,' said Picard, kneeling beside her.

`I don't think it's in here,' said Serisa. `I can access the doors, and the transporter commands, but not the main computer. I suspect they're not quite so stupid as to put us in a room with access to the main computer. If their controls are as centralised as you say, that still doesn't mean we can access them all from here.'

`Well, we can still access their transporter system.'

`But while the _Enterprise's_ shields are still up, we can't beam anywhere.'

`No,' said Picard thoughtfully. His eyes lit up as a thought struck him. `At least, not off the ship.'

`I'm reading one human lifesign, and one Romulan lifesign,' said Hedly to Data, her voice pleased.

`Can you lock onto them?' asked the android.

Hedly pressed a few controls, and shook her head. `There's a strong bio-electrical field blocking their signal. I can't get a solid lock.'

Data ran his eye over the scans, frowning. `This might be produced by a large group of creatures held in stasis, but for a field of this size, you're looking at hundreds of thousands.'

`Can we break through that field?'

Data forced his attention away from the scans, his professional scientific interest piqued by the mystery. `I have an idea.'

`Sir,' said the tactical officer of the _Enterprise_, `I'm picking up a new group of signals. They're launching fighters.'

`Are they headed for the shuttle?' Riker's face became grim as he contemplated the possibility.

`I'm reading a wing of five fighters heading for the _Brisbane_. The others are converging on our position.'

`Riker to _Prometheus_ and _Delphi_. Have your elements act as a fighter screen for us.'

`Understood,' came Gastrovicz's voice.

`Riker to _Knight_. Intercept those fighters heading for the _Brisbane_.'

The USS _Knight_ peeled away from the rest of the taskforce, powering towards the tiny shuttle and the equally small ships heading for it.

`We've got company!' said Hedly, as the red alert activated. `Five fighters on an intercept course!'

Data nodded, but did not remove his attention from the console. `ETA?'

`Five seconds till firing range.'

`Take us out of here,' said Data. `I can't do anymore.'

But before the _Brisbane_ could move, the fighters were upon them. Energy fire crashed into the shields of the tiny vessel, which lurched and reeled under the attack.

`Shields at ten percent!' shouted Hedly over the explosion. `Phasers and engines offline!'

`Can we transport away?'

`The _Enterprise_ has it's shields up,' replied Hedly. She had an idea. `Hold on!'

The fighters swung around and opened fire again. The _Brisbane_ vanished into a cloud of fire and debris.

Just as the attack planes completed their strike, the USS _Knight_ loomed into view directly ahead, and lashed out with it's phasers in vengeance. The fighters, tightly packed in their formation, were blown to pieces in an instant.

`Will,' said Troi suddenly, deputising on communications while the tactical officer concentrated on her attack of the giant ship, `we're receiving a transmission from the _Knight_.'

`What do they say?' asked Riker, his tone worried.

`The _Brisbane_ has been destroyed,' said Troi, her eyes widening in horror. `They couldn't recover either Hedly or Data.'

Riker stared at her for a moment, stunned beyond words. He sank back in the chair, oblivious to the action on the viewer before him, unable to comprehend Data and Hedly's loss.

Picard stared silently at the battle, not knowing of the tragedy that had struck his crew. `Why haven't they fired?' he asked himself quietly.

`Who?' grunted Serisa as she angled herself more advantageously to get to the panel.

`The Aralla. I can see they've launched some fighters, but they've made no move to defend themselves with their main weapons.'

`With that shield,' replied Serisa, `they have no need to.'

`That's what troubles me,' said Picard. `They've never shown any desire to simply hide behind their defences before.'

Serisa got to her feet, and sighed heavily, defeated by the technology. `I can't get anything to respond in there,' she said. `It's as if they've cut the power to all the systems.'

`Cut the power…?' Picard frowned as his mind turned over quickly. `That's it.'

`That's what?' asked Serisa.

`That's the reason for all that they've been doing,' said Picard, his face animated. `The Aralla ships are highly energy-inefficient, and use a vast amount of energy on some strange things – their superweapon, very powerful engines, and more. When we defeated the Aralla, we used a computer virus that drained energy from key systems such as weapons and propulsion. That may be the problem now.'

Serisa was too tired and her emotions too strained to listen to Picard's thoughts out loud. `Well, whatever you're talking about, it is causing us problems. If I can't get power to this panel, then there is no way that I can get us out of this cell.'

Picard's face fell. He turned away and stared pensively at the deck, while Serisa took her turn to look out of the window. At this moment, that area of the city destroyer was facing _DS9_, and she could see the Romulan fleet clustered near the station, facing the Starfleet taskforce. `Why aren't they joining your attack?'

`Sorry?' Picard turned to face her, and Serisa indicated the Romulan fleet. `I would guess because of the mutual distrust between our two governments. I would expect that Riker would love the Romulan ships to assist his attack, but Captain Harris is probably unwilling or unable to trust your people long enough for them to assist.'

`Would you let a Romulan command forces anywhere near you?' asked Serisa, her tone half-belligerent, half-angry at herself.

Picard gave her an old-fashioned look and grinned at a joke known only to himself. `If only you knew,' he remarked mysteriously.

Serisa looked into his eyes in bewilderment, wondering why on Remus it was that she could talk so openly and be so casual and comfortable with someone she had been brought up to think of as an enemy.

And it was at that moment that they both heard the noise at the door.

Serisa had, once they realised that the Aralla knew of their secret communication, sealed the door as well she could before the power had gone. But that had been based on being able to reopen when they wanted to escape, or on being able to beam to the _Enterprise_ if necessary. Now, it seemed, all bets were off – all was lost.

Picard drew himself upright, prepared to face death unafraid, whilst Serisa readied herself to fight hard before being destroyed.

A crack resounded through the room and the door suddenly slid aside. Picard's eyes widened in shock.

`Hello, Captain,' said Data calmly, totally unruffled. `I'm glad I've found you.'


	10. Lights in the Darkness

__

Chapter X

Picard stared for a moment at the android, stunned beyond his capacity for thought. Data tapped his commbadge. `Data to Hedly. I've found the captain.'

`I'm on my way,' replied the security chief's voice.

`Data, you don't know how glad I am to see you again,' said Picard faintly.

The android nodded unemotionally. `Captain, can you walk?'

Picard smiled, suddenly feeling the world, which had been spinning, come back under his feet. `Data, I could run anywhere at this moment.'

`Good,' said Data. He turned his gaze onto Serisa. `Is your companion coming with us?'

`I am,' said Serisa shortly, looking slightly dazed. She looked at Picard. `You know each other?'

Picard's smile widened. `We do indeed.'

Hedly appeared at the doorway, and her smile of sheer relief told Picard that he was back among friends at last. `Captain –'

`We have no time, Commander,' said Picard. `Let us reserve celebrations for when we return to the _Enterprise_.'

Hedly couldn't suppress a smile, but she handed out a pair of phasers to Serisa and Picard. `We think we've discovered a way off the ship, sir, but it's some distance away.'

Picard hefted the weapon in his hand. `Let's go.'

The quartet made their way out of the erstwhile cell, Data and Picard leading the way. `How did you find us?' asked the captain.

`We locked on to your position using the _Brisbane's_ scanners; the _Enterprise_ herself would have attracted too much attention,' replied Data. `Originally, the _Enterprise_ and the taskforce was to have distracted this ship, whilst we stole in and beamed you away. However, we came under attack shortly after we discovered an intense bioelectrical field surrounding your position. We could not beam you through it.'

`We were attacked by their fighters, sir,' added Hedly, casting anxious glances behind her. `But the field didn't prevent us from beaming _onto_ here. So I got us away just before the _Brisbane_ was destroyed.'

`Commander Hedly's quick thinking saved both of our lives,' confirmed Data.

`We had your location, and it was a simple case to track you down with our tricorders,' finished Hedly.

`How do you plan to get off?' asked Serisa candidly, her tone sceptical.

`We haven't formulated a plan as yet,' replied Data calmly. Picard fought to hide a smile, even in such a dark situation, knowing his friend was hiding his emotions behind the wall of his emotion chip.

`We need to get in contact with the _Enterprise_,' said Picard, halting at a junction of corridors.

`Our commbadges don't have the range,' replied Data. We would need to find a communications centre.'

`How have we not been caught yet?' asked Serisa suddenly, her tone impatient. She stood at the back of the group, frustration rising off her like mist on a sea. `I don't know if anyone's noticed, but we are on a hostile vessel, in the middle of a battle situation. Is it maybe possible that this is all just one big trap?'

`She's got a point,' said Picard to Data.

Serisa's temper broke. `You don't get it! I don't know what's happening! I want to get out of here as much as any of you, but I don't know where I am, or what I'm doing here or even how I got here! I don't know who any of you are! I don't trust any of you – I only worked with you -' she pointed at Picard - `so I could get out of that damned cell!'

Picard knew he was seeing the famous Romulan paranoia in action. The citizens of the Star Empire, even some of the most intelligent and rational amongst them, nevertheless shared a mass group paranoia and xenophobia about other races. Serisa had kept that suppressed ruthlessly, but now she was forced to trust people she didn't know – humans, even worse – and that paranoia was causing her problems, even in this situation. If they didn't resolve this now, it could lead to their recapture.

Picard turned to face Serisa, eyeing her nervous face and darting eyes, trying to make eye contact with her. `Serisa, please look at me.' Her eyes focussed on his. `Please believe me, I have only one intention here – I want to get off this ship as much as you do. Data and Hedly are my friends, and they are here to help us. You've believed me this far, just a little further will make all the difference.'

Serisa's breathing slowed slightly, and she tried to relax herself. She nodded jerkily, once. Picard smiled reassuringly. `I need you and Commander Hedly to watch our backs. Feel up to it?'

Serisa hefted the phaser in her hand. `I do.'

Picard nodded, and turned to Hedly. `Commander, if you see anything suspicious at all, tell me. We need to watch our backs very carefully.'

`Understood, sir,' replied his security chief.

Picard turned to Data. `Was this your plan?'

`Sir,' replied Data, `I have no plan. We're making it up as we go along.'

Picard realised that Data had reactivated his emotions, as he heard the nerves in the android's voice. Data had a long way to go before he learned how to control his feelings in the way Picard and Riker were so adept at. That said, Data was a full thirty years of training in emotions behind them, and was doing a good job of it. `I understand. We need to know what we're doing, however.'

`Understood,' was all Data said.

Picard took his first good look at where they were. They had run a short distance from the cells along a badly lit corridor, but this junction obviously led to a power-filled area, as light shone from it's far end. `Data,' said Picard quietly, `we're onboard an Aralla city destroyer.'

Data's eyes widened. `An Aralla ship? Commander Riker seemed to think so as well.'

`Will hasn't seen one of these for real yet,' said Picard. `Starfleet didn't believe him?'

`He didn't share his concerns with Starfleet,' replied Data.

Picard nodded, unsurprised. `Captain Harris would never have believed him. Or me,' he added.

`Is there any possibility of destroying this ship now?'

Picard shook his head. `They're too large and too redundant in too many areas. You'd have to plant several photon torpedoes inside this thing to do any real damage.'

`Could we possibly capture a fighter and pilot it out of this ship?'

Picard's smiled widened, and he suppressed a laugh. `Data, I have heard you make that suggestion before.'

Data frowned. `You have?'

`It's as good a suggestion now as it was then,' added Picard. `I think I know where they have their hangar bays. Come on.'

`How does he know so much about this ship?' asked Serisa of Hedly, as the group set off.

Hedly winced. `It's a very long and complicated story,' she said. `I'll explain if we get to the _Enterprise_.'

`Don't you mean when?' asked Serisa.

`I know what I said.'

The quartet made it's way along the darkened corridors, pausing at every intersection, watching for the enemy. The eeriest thing about that journey, Picard reflected, was that there was no sound. All of his trips aboard Aralla vessels had been marked out by the strange noises heard throughout the ships – the deep caverns inside the mother ships, the clanks and groans of incredible machinery just out of sight in the darkness.

He knew something was wrong – it was not normal for any ship to be so shrouded in darkness and silent, not even the Aralla.

Then, with a start, he noticed something else. There was light emanating from one of the larger corridors which adjoined this particular one. He brought the party to a halt. Taking his phaser more firmly in his hand, he signalled silently for Hedly to join him, and the pair sidled cautiously towards the corridor.

Picard slowly put his head around the corridor's corner, and his eyes narrowed in triumph. He had seen exactly what he expected to see.

He leaned back, and glanced at the others. `We need to go this way,' he said quietly.

`But?' prompted Serisa.

`There are four Aralla in the corridor between us and the hangar bay,' said Picard simply.

No-one reacted; in truth, he had expected little else. None of them had truly faced the Aralla yet. `What are your orders?' asked Data.

Picard thought for a moment, and then said, `Data, on my signal, take Serisa and get to the other side of the door. There are four, and we'll need to take them straight away. Then we fire at the same time. Set phasers to kill.'

Data looked into Picard's eyes, and then nodded. `Aye, sir.'

They adjusted their phasers, and then moved back to the intersection. Picard poked his head around again, tense in case he was spotted. Then he signalled for the android and the Romulan to make their dash.

After they did so, he held up his hand, indicating a count of three, and then lowered them. One finger, two fingers, three.

They all leaned simultaneously into position, lining up their targets and fired.

Four phaser beams lanced out, stabbing down three of the Aralla. Unfortunately, Picard and Hedly had both fired on the same one. The fourth turned, and lashed out with a tentacle at Picard, slamming the captain against a wall and the phaser skittering from his grasp. Another shot, from Serisa, caught it in the head, sending it crashing to the deck, still.

Data rushed to Picard's side as the captain levered himself into a sitting position, shaking his head from the force of the impact. `Learn to duck, Jean-Luc,' he said to himself.

`Captain?' Picard turned a slightly dazed expression onto Hedly. `Are you okay?'

`Yes, Commander,' said Picard, as he got to his feet, only leaning slightly on Data. It was important to show strength in this situation. `Come on.'

The bodies of the Aralla were strewn about the corridor in their attitudes of death, forcing the group to pick their way through them, watching in case any of them lived still. Curiously, Serisa and Hedly stared at the carcasses for a long moment before moving on. Picard and Data's attention was focussed more on what was before them. 

The giant fighter hangar bay lay behind three huge windows, which allowed the group an unrivalled view of the huge bay, and to see the hundreds of attack fighters spread out before them.

All except Picard's eyes widened in shock at the sheer magnitude of what was before them. Light blue mist hung in the air, obscuring the view in the distance. From the deck of the bay, far, far below them, giant pillars twisted up into the mists above, lights shining dimly from their flanks, meeting a far off ceiling that remained tantalisingly out of view. Indeed, from their vantage point, they could see that they themselves were within one of those giant pillars.

Data had taken his tricorder from his holster, scanning, taking readings of as much data as he could before they made their escape. Picard could not repress a smile at this, an act that said so much about Data's character, but also one that the alternate Data, embittered by death and warfare, had never considered. It refreshed Picard to see it.

`Do you know what the mist in the hangar bay is composed of?' asked Serisa.

Picard shook his head. `We never stopped to find out.'

`I thought Starfleet's mission was one of scientific exploration.'

Picard nodded slowly, sadly. `It is.'

`Can we steal one of these ships?' asked Hedly suddenly.

`That was the plan,' replied Picard, turning to face her.

`It's just that the hangar bays don't seem to be active either,' said the security chief. She pointed.

Picard turned to look. Indeed, as she had said, the hangar bay was mostly deserted. There were a few lights still shining, and some figures moving about in the dim light, but it was mostly dark and silent. `It looks like they've cut the power here as well,' commented Picard, his voice worried.

`I don't see a problem,' said Data. `If those ships have their own power –'

`They don't,' said Picard. `They draw power directly from this ship. If they are cutting power to sections, for whatever reason, that means that we can't fly them out. We need to contact the _Enterprise_.'

`Our commbadges don't have the range,' said Hedly.

`Otherwise you would have done so by now, I know,' finished Picard. `We need to gain access to a communications facility, or find some way of boosting the commbadge's range.'

`I have an idea,' said Data. `We may be able to boost the power of these commbadges by siphoning off energy from the main grid. But it would be noticed.'

`I think they probably already know about us,' said Serisa.

`Agreed,' said Picard. `Data, set your tricorder to scan for heavy computer activity. I think I know where there might be a computer access point. Follow me.'

`Commander!' The call came from the Ops officer, Ensign Gyra.

`What is it, ensign?' asked Riker.

`I've picked up lifeforms aboard the unidentified ship!'

Riker was on his feet and beside the Ops console in an instant. `Any way of identifying it?'

`Two human signs, one Romulan and –' Gyra turned a delighted smile onto Riker. `One artificial lifeform.'

`Data,' murmured Troi, as a palpable feeling of relief swept through the bridge.

`Can you give me a location?' asked Riker. `We can try and beam them out.'

`They're quite deep inside the ship, sir, but I can't give you specific co-ordinates. There's a very strong bio-electrical field scrambling our pinpoint sensors. If they can communicate with us, we can lock onto the transponders on their commbadges.'

`Keep working on it, and well done,' said Riker. `Keep a close eye on them.'

`Aye, sir,' replied Gyra.

Riker strode to his chair and pressed a key. `This is Commander Riker to taskforce. Cease fire and fall back. I repeat, cease fire, and fall back.'

All of the ships immediately acknowledged his order, and a moment later, he could see the taskforce pulling away from the giant ship.

Riker turned to face the engineering console. `Geordi, get down to the transporters – see if you can break through that interference.'

`Aye, sir,' said La Forge, jumping up and making for the turbolift as Riker turned back to the screen.

`All ships, this is the _Enterprise_. Set course to shadow the unidentified ship.'

The _Enterprise_ swung gracefully around, and settled in just astern of the giant vessel. Astern of the Starfleet ship, the rest of the taskforce also moved into formation and tailed them.

A phaser beam lanced into one of the bulkheads, forcing Picard to drop his head down again. He winced as sparks rained down from the bulkhead, showering his position. He turned and faced Data. `Can we get out another way?' he shouted over the noise of the firefight.

Data shook his head as another blast sizzled over his head. `No, sir! The computers I detected are that way! We'd have to take a five mile detour to get there and by that time -!'

He ducked a phaser beam, and Serisa said, `We'd be caught again!'

`I know,' said Picard, voice angry and frustrated. He raised his phaser over the mini barricade they had erected and fired on the Aralla facing them, missing by some distance.

The quartet had run into stiff opposition from the Aralla, who had cornered them on one of the ship's myriad corridors. They had not realised that they had been tracked down until the Aralla appeared and immediately opened fire, using the weapons Picard remembered so well.

Quickly, they had retreated, hoping to find another way, but at every turn the Aralla had hunted them down. And now they were cornered in a final corridor that led directly to one of the main computer chambers, but which was almost completely sealed off by the Aralla.

And now they had been forced back into a junction, with Aralla approaching from every side. Despite managing to find a piece of heavy conduit to use as a makeshift barricade, it was only a matter of time before they were caught or killed.

Even as he thought this, another blast ripped over his head and caught Hedly a glancing blow on the arm. She cried out in pain, and dropped her weapon, collapsing behind the barricade. Data leapt to her aid, but she shook him off, picking up her phaser in her left hand and lancing a shot into an advancing Aralla. Her face was bone white with shock, and Picard knew she was in serious pain.

`The phasers are starting to lose power,' said Serisa, indicating the charge on her weapon.

`We'll only have about ten more shots, sir,' added Data.

`Let's make them count,' replied Picard grimly, unwilling to surrender.

Serisa stared at him for a moment, and then nodded, turning her attention back to the battle.

Data, however, suddenly dropped down again, and levered open the access port on his phaser. Whilst the others opened up on the Aralla, hoping to make them think twice with their last shots, Data linked his phaser to his tricorder using the universal port on the tricorder, and then removed his badge and attached that to the assemblage.

Picard finally noticed what he was doing. `Data, what are you doing?'

`I've had an idea, sir,' he said. He flipped open an access point on his arm, and linked himself into the hodgepodge of circuitry. He keyed in a few commands to the tricorder and then looked up at Picard. `If I route all of the phaser's power through the tricorder and the commbadge, and then open a commsignal, I can route that signal into my positronic relay and turn my body into a transponder.'

`You thought of this just now?' asked Picard, bemused. `What happens if something goes wrong?'

`My head will probably explode,' replied Data absurdly calmly.

`Ah,' replied Picard, hesitant. `Are you sure?'

Another phaser blast slashed by Picard, causing him to duck. `Yes, sir,' said Data. `We won't be able to get through to the computer rooms, and I can't see any other way of getting the boost to our badges!'

`Make it so,' ordered Picard.

Data triggered the tricorder and immediately a low whining sound came from it. Picard stared at him, worried. `How long?'

`Any time in the next few seconds,' replied Data.

`La Forge to bridge!'

`Go ahead Geordi,' replied Riker.

`I've picked up a strong transponder reading from the alien ship!'

`Can you beam them out?'

`We need to be a bit closer,' replied Geordi.

`Stand by,' said Riker. He leapt to his feet. `Riker to _Delphi_, the _Enterprise_ is going in close to the alien ship and dropping our shields in order to beam out the away team. We'll need you to create a diversion and to get us out if it goes wrong.'

`Understood,' replied Gastrovicz. `We'll cover you, _Enterprise_.'

`Lieutenant Truper, lay in a course for the alien ship, full impulse power. Prepare to lower shields,' ordered Riker. `Geordi, you'll get one shot at this.'

`Acknowledged,' said Geordi.

The _Enterprise_ lunged for the giant ship abruptly, whilst the taskforce opened up again, carefully arranging their fire so as to avoid hitting the starship. Phaser blasts pulsed against the green shields, but this time there was a response.

A blast of blue fire lanced out of the giant ship into the USS _Lance_, sending it spinning wildly. More followed, forcing the taskforce to split, with only the _Delphi_ herself catching a glancing blow.

`The _Lance_ is badly damaged,' said Truper.

`Ten seconds to transporter range,' added Gyra, betraying her inexperience with the quaver in her voice. Truper, by comparison, sounded like a veteran.

`Ready on shields,' ordered Riker calmly.

The fire was getting more intense around Picard and the others, who were down to the last few shots. What was more, the whining from Data's creation was getting worse and Picard was now worried about his friend.

`What's he doing?' shouted Serisa over the scream of another phaser blast.

`Risking his life for us,' replied Picard angrily. He glanced up and shot down another Aralla that had ventured out too far from its cover. But they had only killed three of their enemies, and Picard knew they would be overwhelmed in the next minute or so.

`I don't intend to be recaptured,' said Serisa. She held the phaser up. `I'm saving one more shot for myself.'

Picard glanced at Hedly who grinned, although she was definitely suffering. `I won't last much longer either anyway,' she replied.

Picard raised his eyebrow. `We will all lead long, fruitful lives,' he said. `That's an order.'

He threw a glance at Data. `You too.'

`In range!' shouted Truper.

`Lower shields! Geordi, they're all yours,' called Riker.

`Energising -!'

The alien ship unleashed a giant ball of plasma into the _Enterprise's_ flank. An enormous explosion erupted from the starship.

The transporter room reeled crazily, and Geordi heard the detonation crash through the superstructure. He was thrown from the console into the bulkhead, hitting the deck hard.

Undeterred, the engineer pulled himself grimly back to his position, even as the _Enterprise_ screamed around him, her hull subjected to incredible stresses beyond even her strenuous design tolerances. He pulled himself upright, and hammered in an execute command.

`That's my last shot!' shouted Serisa.

`Mine too!' yelled Hedly. The storm of phaser fire increased as the Aralla realised that there was nothing being thrown at them.

Picard swore, fury coursing through his veins. Anger at the Aralla defeating him at last, blind rage at the failure of the taskforce to rescue him and his crewmates, who had risked their lives to recover him needlessly.

And most of all, anger at himself for putting himself in such a useless position that his own crew had to die in order to rescue him from an impossible position.

And he stood up, fury written across his face, and faced the final Aralla assault with empty phaser in hand.

And energy encased him, and whisked him away.

`_Got them!' _yelled Geordi ecstatically into the comm.

`Shields up!' ordered Riker. `Get us out of here!'

Truper hammered the engage key before Riker closed his mouth.

The _Enterprise_, still trailing fire from her flanks into the now erected shields, creating a play of orange light against the energy fields, powered away from the Aralla vessel, with the rest of the taskforce still harrying the giant ship.

Picard staggered from the transporter pad, stunned by his last second rescue. He turned to see Geordi already leaning over Data, detaching the strange concoction of machinery from his friend's arm. As soon as he did so, the loud whining sound stopped. Serisa herself lowered the phaser from where she held it at her temple, a similarly astonished expression on her face. Hedly collapsed onto the pad, letting go of hard-fought consciousness.

`Beam Ghia to Sickbay now!' ordered Picard, acting purely on instinct.

Geordi complied silently. Hedly's body vanished in a shimmer of blue light.

The _Enterprise_ shook again, as another blast hit its shields. Geordi caught Picard as he stumbled and nearly fell. `Captain, I need to get you to sickbay.'

Picard shook his head and forced himself upright. `Take care of Data. I want to get to the bridge.' He got himself upright on his own terms, feeling stronger than he had for days, just by being aboard his own ship. `I'll be okay.'

He turned, and kept his feet even as the _Enterprise_ rocked beneath his feet, and strode quickly from the transporter room.

The _Enterprise_ swung away from the Aralla vessel, but the giant ship turned ponderously on it's own axis, opening up on the Federation flagship with all of its weapons.

The taskforce opened fire in return, trying to draw fire away from the escaping _Enterprise_. But the Aralla ship would not respond to the decoy, chasing after the _Enterprise, _gaining speed all the time as its momentum increased.

Riker stared grimly at the main screen, now showing the reverse view from the _Enterprise_, watching in silence as the black ship pursued.

Behind him, the tactical officer reported, `Shields at seventy-two percent, Commander.'

`Ready quantum torpedoes,' ordered Riker. `Full spread and prepare to come hard to starboard.'

`Aye, sir,' chorused Truper and the tactical officer together.

The turbolift doors hissed open, and Riker heard a gasp from Troi, before he turned to see what had disturbed his concentration.

`I wouldn't fire those torpedoes if I were you, Will,' said Picard, making his way slowly down the bridge to where Riker was stood. He stood in front of his first officer and looked up at him. `You'll probably only make them madder.'

`And what would you suggest, Captain?' asked Riker, smiling, relieved to see his old friend once again, but professional enough to leave his celebrations until later.

Picard turned and walked to the captain's chair. `What's our situation,' he asked, not sitting down but facing the screen.

`We've got a hull breach on four decks, and the enemy ship is ignoring the taskforce in favour of us. Our shields are holding, but won't last a lot longer.'

`Can we go to warp?'

`The stress on our hull would be too great,' said Riker.

Picard stared at the screen, at the black Aralla vessel that loomed over his command. His eyes were cold. `They're after me.'

`Sir?' Troi felt Picard's mind become closed, angry.

`They want me dead,' said Picard calmly. `They want me to pay for what I have done to them.'

Riker threw a glance at Troi and then said, `What are your orders, Captain?'

Picard remained staring at the screen for a moment and then seemed to come back into himself. `Lieutenant Truper, alter course towards _DS9_. Full impulse power. Get me Captain Harris. Continue evasive manoeuvres.'

`What's your plan?' asked Riker.

Picard sat slowly in his chair, luxuriating in the feel of being in the right place again. He smiled up at Riker. `Let's find out.'

Captain Harris stared at the battle erupting before him. Every few moments, one of the starships would unleash another bright salvo into the shields of the giant vessel, which continued on it's way unabated, uninterested, even with fire rolling from it's flanks. Instead, it concentrated it's fire on the _Enterprise_, which dodged agilely, but still could not avoid the occasional hit, given the amount of fire being directed towards it.

Despite the bizarre feel to the battle, Kira watched Harris' face, rather than the conflict, noting that there was none of the usual unease which she would have expected, given that his reputation was on the line. Sisko had always gone through paroxysms of frustration whenever he was forced to sit back and watch something he felt he should be participating in. Kira herself always felt that way too.

But Harris' face was serenely confident, as if he didn't fear the consequences that might come, given the distinct possibility of the loss of another starship.

Kira was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Harris simply didn't care.

Harris turned to Stent, who watched the battle with a similarly detached expression. `Commander, give me an update on the battle.'

`The _Enterprise_ has received significant damage,' replied Stent, glancing quickly at his displays. `The rest of the taskforce is attempting to draw fire, but the alien ship is concentrating on the _Enterprise_.'

`Does Riker know what he's doing?' asked Harris, his voice thoughtful. 

Kira frowned at that comment, and opened her mouth to speak, but Stent spoke first, `Captain, the _Enterprise _is changing course towards us!'

The command crew of the station all turned again to look at the screen. The _Enterprise_ had begun to turn away from it's course and head towards the station. Harris frowned, surprised by the turn of events.

Kira's temper, held in so manfully, finally snapped. She whirled on Harris, who regarded her with a cool look. `Sir, let me take the _Defiant_ out! Its firepower might make a difference in that battle.'

`Permission denied, Colonel,' replied Harris, his tone as calm as Kira's was angry. `I'm not risking another ship to that attack. If Riker wants to betray Starfleet and lose the _Enterprise_, I won't get in his way.'

Kira stared for a moment, aghast by what he had just said. `Sir, that fleet is _your_ responsibility!'

Harris stepped down from the upper level, and stared into Kira's eyes from less than half a metre away and spoke softly. `One more word from you on this matter, Colonel, and I will confine you to quarters.'

Kira had faced more terrifying things than Harris, but she shut her mouth and nodded tightly. She knew when someone held the upper hand – Sisko had taught her patience.

`Sir! We're receiving a transmission from the _Enterprise_!' Ezri's voice was shocked.

`Put it through,' ordered Harris. `Main viewer.'

The screen flashed into life, and the assembled crew gasped.

`Captain Harris,' said Picard's face, smiling benevolently. `You might want to think about lending me a hand.'

Harris stared at the viewer in shock for a moment, losing his composure for the first time since Kira had met him. Then he rallied. `Captain Picard, it's good to see you.'

`Same here,' replied Picard, his voice warm, but his eyes glittering with anger. `We'll be within range of your phaser banks in three minutes. I recommend that you get prepared to defend yourselves.'

`Captain, you have to lead that ship away,' said Harris urgently. `We have to keep the Romulans out of this.'

Picard leaned forward slightly. `Believe me, Captain, I want to get the Romulans as involved with this as I can. Stand ready for battle. _Enterprise_ out.'

Riker threw a glance at Picard, who settled back in his seat, a small smile on his face. `You were pretty hard on him.'

`He's moved my chair,' said Picard, his voice mock-petulant.

The _Enterprise_ swooped towards _Deep Space Nine_, and the stand-off between the Romulan and Starfleet forces, dragging the Aralla vessel in it's wake, unwilling to stand back.

From the bridge of the _G'gerithau_, Ratek watched uneasily as the _Enterprise_ closed with their position, black ship in it's wake. `That's an interesting tactic,' he muttered.

`Commander,' said the comm officer, `the rest of the fleet is requesting orders.'

`Prepare to raise shields, on my order only,' replied Ratek. `I don't want to provoke Starfleet into doing anything rash.'

`This is Captain Harris to taskforce. Come about and engage the enemy ship.' Harris grimaced as he gave the order, knowing his hand had been forced.

Kira smiled grimly, knowing her moment had come. `All hands to battle stations, red alert. Activate phasers and photon torpedo launchers. Shields up.'

The _Texas, Livingston, Kyoto _and_ Magnum_ all turned away from the Romulan fleet, bringing their weapons to bear on the giant ship. Similarly, the taskforce pursuing the Aralla all readied themselves to begin firing again.

The _Enterprise _powered into position over the station, taking refuge amongst its friends which surged past it in the opposite direction, ready to fight.

And the Aralla ship itself suddenly turned away, banking to port in a move which surprised all who watched it, and vanished into warp.

Picard stared at the screen of the _Enterprise_, his face shocked. `I didn't expect that.'

`Can we track them?' asked Riker.

Ensign Gyra nodded. `Their heading is 447 mark 012.'

`Back to the Neutral Zone,' said Picard quietly.

La Forge's voice broke the silence. `Engineering to bridge.'

`Picard here.'

`Captain, we can't take any more of the acceleration. The _Enterprise_ is on the verge of breaking apart. I've got the Structural Integrity Field at full power, but the hull is still buckling under the stress.'

`Understood,' said Picard. `Lieutenant Truper, bring us to all stop. _Carefully.'_

`Aye sir,' replied Truper.

`How long do you estimate for repairs, Commander?' asked Picard.

`At least two days,' replied La Forge. `But I can shorten that if I can use _DS9's_ repair facilities.'

Picard sighed, frustrated. `You'll get them, Geordi. Picard out.'

`So we just wait?' asked Riker.

`We can't do anything else, Number One,' replied Picard.

He turned to his first officer and held out his hand. `I didn't get a chance, Will, to thank you for rescuing me.'

Riker shook his hand. `Anytime, sir.'

In that handshake, that quiet moment, was hidden many years of strong, deep friendship the two men had, great affection and respect. Troi smiled, her eyes misting slightly, as she sensed the depth of the gratitude Picard felt, and the relief and pleasure at having his captain back from Riker.

`Thank you all,' said Picard, his voice slightly choked with emotion. `I couldn't wish for a better crew.'

And with that, the crew burst into applause, cheering the return of their captain and friend.

`The unidentified ship has set course for the Neutral Zone at warp five,' said Relesi.

`Any indication that the Starfleet force is pursuing?' asked Ratek.

`None,' replied his first officer. She turned a worried face onto Ratek. `What are your orders?'

Ratek paused, knowing what duty and standing procedure would have him do next. He was obliged to report to the Continuing Committee for further orders, and he knew that they would immediately order him to pursue and attempt to destroy the enemy vessel.

But part of him rebelled against that approach, and he knew, deep inside, that the answers to the puzzle, and to the saving of the Romulan Empire, lay here at _DS9_. He turned to face Relesi. `Contact Captain Harris again. I wish to speak to him.'

Relesi nodded once, but her face was puzzled. She knew procedure as well as Ratek. The rest of the crew decided not to say anything. After a moment, Harris' face appeared on screen. `This is Captain Harris. Commander Ratek, please be brief –'

`I wish to beam aboard the station,' said Ratek, cutting Harris off.

Harris paused, taking in the shocked looks from the other officers on Ratek's bridge. `May I ask why?'

`I may have some information on the mysterious ship,' answered the Romulan, inventing madly. `Information I would like to share privately.'

Harris paused, and then said, `Very well, Commander.'

`I will beam over in two hours,' stated Ratek. `_G'gerithau_ out.'

`Commander,' said Relesi, her voice and tone slightly outraged, `is this a wise course to take?'

Ratek stood and stretched, feeling the tension in his body. He walked over to Relesi's station and leaned down towards her. As was proper with military discipline, the other officers on the bridge studiously ignored their conversation. `Relesi, we know nothing about this ship. If I go over there, I may be able to learn what Starfleet knows.'

`But what if they find out that we know nothing?'

Ratek smiled. `The important thing is to get over to the station, and to speak to their commanders. Once I'm there, then we can plan.'

`I'm going with you,' replied Relesi. A statement, not a question.

Ratek's smiled widened. `Of course.'

Harris stared at the blank screen for a moment, pondering over the Romulan's unusual request.

`I'd have thought they'd have made back for the Neutral Zone,' commented Lieutenant Nog.

`Yeah,' said Harris vaguely, his mind whirling.

Kira shot him a glance but said nothing. Instead, she turned to Nog and asked, `Lieutenant, what's the strategic situation?'

Nog responded perfectly. `Colonel, the unidentified ship is heading for Romulan space at warp five, ETA at the Neutral Zone border, one week. The taskforce has stood down from red alert, and is assuming a patrol formation near the Romulan fleet. The Romulan fleet is running shields down, weapons off. The _Enterprise_ has requested use of the repair facilities around upper docking pylon four.'

`Granted,' said Kira straightaway.

`Captain Picard wants to come onboard and speak with the taskforce commanders,' added Nog.

`Very well,' said Harris suddenly. He turned to face the others. `We'll convene a meeting between ourselves, the Romulans, and Captain Picard at 1500 hours. See to it, Colonel,' he added, before walking to the turbolift and disappearing down the shaft.

`What's wrong with him?' asked Stent quietly.

Kira shrugged. `Get me Commander Ratek.'

Picard stared from the window of his ready room, watching the Romulan fleet that lay slightly astern of them. The door chime sounded. `Come in.'

Riker came through the door. `Captain, I thought you might like a situation report.'

Picard nodded, not turning. `Thank you, Number One.'

Riker set the padd down on the desk and waited for a moment. Sometimes, the two men didn't need to speak in order to communicate. He knew Picard wanted to say something.

`Will,' said Picard. Riker smirked to himself. `How's Data?'

`Geordi had him taken to Engineering as soon as you were beamed aboard,' answered Riker. `Data's been kept deactivated while Geordi works on his positronic net.'

`Keep me informed,' replied Picard. `He and Hedly deserve the highest plaudits for what they did.'

`Agreed,' was all Riker said.

`What's the situation?' asked Picard, still not facing his friend.

Riker sighed and relaxed his shoulders from the attention pose he had been stood in for the last couple of minutes. Now, he and Picard were two friends in the same room. `Difficult to say,' he replied. `Captain Harris is hiding out on _DS9_ for some reason. Technically, this is still his flagship, but I haven't physically spoken to him for nearly two days.'

Picard turned, eyebrow raised, surprise on his face. `That long?'

Riker nodded affirmatively. `The taskforce commanders are loyal to him, even though they decided to help with our rescue attempt.'

`I know Gastrovicz,' said Picard thoughtfully. `He's a good man.'

`If I might ask,' said Riker, `what do you intend to do now?'

Picard smiled to himself, his expression enigmatic. `Have you spoken to Admiral Drayton lately?'

Riker frowned. `Yes, sir,' he said, knowing that he had been ordered to keep the conversation with Data and Dr Bashir a secret.

`When?'

Riker paused guiltily, feeling that Picard already knew what he was likely to say. `Captain, I –'

`It's okay,' said Picard, finally fully turning to face him. `I've been speaking to Admiral Drayton too. I just finished giving him my overview report, and he told me everything that's happened. Well, that is, everything I didn't already know about.'

Picard moved to his desk, sat down and pressed a key. `Picard to bridge.'

`Bridge here.'

`I don't want anyone disturbing me for the next hour. Understood?'

`Aye, sir,' answered the voice. `Captain, we've received a message from _Deep Space Nine_. Captain Harris has convened a meeting for 1500 hours. He wants you to be there.'

`Acknowledged,' replied Picard. `Picard out.' He turned to face Riker. `I want you there with me, Number One,' he added.

`Yes, sir,' replied Riker.

`Computer, set up a level-two force field at the entrance of this room,' said Picard.

The computer bleeped, and Riker heard the forcefield hum into action behind him. Suddenly, he realised what Picard was about. `You know.'

Picard smiled again. `Of course, Number One, I was in on it from the beginning. Admiral Drayton filled me in with all of the missing details that I lost while I was captured.'

`What's going to happen?' asked Riker faintly.

`Section 31 isn't going to know what's hit it. We're going to clean out Starfleet, top down.' Picard's eyes glinted in anticipation, and Riker reflected that he'd never seen his captain in such a mood before. `And you're going to be at the centre of it.'


	11. Recovery

__

Chapter XI

The _Enterprise_ manoeuvred slowly into place against one of _Deep Space Nine's_ upper docking pylons. Mating gently with the docking clamps, in order to not disturb its badly ravaged hull further, it came to a final halt. Within moments, Geordi La Forge was in communication with the repair crews aboard _DS9_ and the massive task of repairing the battered hull of the starship began.

Sickbay wasn't busy at the moment, and Hedly had the room practically to herself as she lay quietly on the biobed, resting.

Beverly Crusher walked through from her office and watched the vital signs of her patient for a moment as Hedly slept. Then she realised that Hedly had opened her eyes and was looking at her. Her skin was still pale, but she had come out of shock and the phaser burn on her arm had healed quickly.

The security chief swallowed, forcing her voice into action for the first time in three hours. 'Will I be okay?'

Crusher smiled gently down at her. 'You won't be able to use your arm for a few days, Commander, but otherwise you're fine. I'll be keeping you in for observation for today, but you'll be okay to leave tomorrow.'

At that moment, the door of sickbay opened and Picard, Riker and Truper all filed in. As Truper went straight to Hedly's side, Crusher turned to face them, and her studied composure collapsed the moment she saw Picard. 'Jean-Luc!'

She rushed to him and embraced him, tears spilling from her eyes. Riker and Truper averted their gaze, whilst Picard awkwardly put his arms around her. 'Beverly,' he said, his voice gently chiding, but undertones in it told her how much he had missed her.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said, releasing him and taking a step back. 'I'm sorry, Captain,' she said again, trying to regain her composure.

Picard smiled at her gently. 'It's okay, Beverly. I'm all right.'

Crusher's voice became more professional, slightly chiding herself. 'I'll be the judge of that, captain. I want you to do a full check-up.'

'I feel –'

'You're malnourished, exhausted, emotionally drained and badly injured,' said Crusher. 'That's an order.'

'The symptoms?' asked Riker facetiously.

'The diagnosis,' said Crusher firmly.

Picard smiled, knowing he was beaten, and also acknowledging that what she had said was only part of it. But he had one last duty. 'Commander Hedly,' he said.

Hedly lifted her head weakly, and said, 'Aye, sir?'

Picard came to her bedside and looked down at her. 'Ghia, I wanted to thank you for what you did. You risked your life and went above and beyond the call of duty.'

Hedly smiled, slightly embarrassed. 'Sir, I would do the same again. It wasn't such a big deal.'

Picard raised an eyebrow. 'Be that as it may, Commander, I'm citing you and Commander Data for the highest order of gallantry in Starfleet. The paperwork will be done in the next day or so.'

Hedly smiled, but her expression was amazed by what Picard had said. 'Thank you, sir. How is Commander Data?'

'I think that he will be all right,' replied Picard. 'He's come through worse.'

'Geordi, I assure you, the transponder signal did not damage me.' Data was laid on a bio-bed in Engineering, with the top of his head removed. Wires trailed from his arm access port to another monitor, while Geordi waved a tricorder sensor above his head. 'I was most careful –'

'I'm sure, Data, however setting up a signal like that will cause some imbalance in your positronic matrix. I'll be the judge of whether it damaged you or not.' Geordi sighed, and set down the tricorder to look at his friend. 'You really shouldn't have done what you did.'

'It was our only choice, Geordi,' said Data. 'Only by creating a transponder signal within myself could I generate a carrier wave strong enough to punch through the bioelectrical field screening us from your sensors.'

'Yeah, well, that might be the case,' replied Geordi, 'but I've found something.'

'What?'

'The carrier wave created an imbalance in your emotion chip, Data. I'm going to have to remove it before it damages your matrix.'

'Remove my emotion chip?' Data swung himself carefully to a seated position and looked at Geordi. 'How long for?'

'I'm not sure,' replied Geordi frankly. 'It depends on how much damage there has been done to it.'

Data's face was stricken. 'How did it happen?'

'Because you set up the signal inside yourself, the positronic matrix had to use a redundant area of your brain to create the signal's resonance burst. Because you had your emotion chip deactivated, it did so inside it's structure. But the chip isn't designed to take that sort of pressure – no part of you is – and it's still carrying part of that resonance inside you.'

'What will happen if you don't?' Data's voice was no more than a whisper.

'Data, the resonance is slowly building. It's tiny at the moment, but eventually it'll disrupt your entire positronic net. That shock will kill you.'

Data nodded slowly. 'Very well,' he said quietly.

'I know how much having this chip means to you, Data,' said Geordi, his voice sorrowful. 'I know that you thought long and hard before you had it inserted into your positronic net. But I can't stand by and let it kill you.'

'I'm grateful that I have a friend like you to help me,' said Data, forcing a smile.

'We're all here for you, Data,' replied Geordi. 'The captain is back, we're one happy family again.'

Data nodded, but did not look as if he believed his friend. 'It depends on how well he lives with his memories.'

Geordi raised an eyebrow, surprised by Data's insight. Sometimes, even though he was relatively new to emotions and their impact, he could come up with the most amazing and insightful thoughts. It was almost like having a genius child. 'Come on, Data, let's get to work.'

Troi pressed the doorknocker of Picard's ready room. There was a pause, and then a voice said, 'Come in.'

Troi stepped through as the doors slid aside to find Picard sat at a small table in the corner of the room, finishing off a meal. 'Sorry, counsellor,' he said, 'but these are doctor's orders.' He took another bite.

Troi smiled. 'Don't worry,' she said, 'Beverly told me what she'd prescribed.'

'I was just amazed she didn't keep me in for observation,' remarked Picard. He indicated the couch. 'Please sit down.'

Troi did so. She watched Picard for a moment silently, until he smiled at her, and said, 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

'I wanted to speak to you about what you've undergone in the last few days,' replied Troi.

'I do intend to make a full report to Starfleet,' said Picard. 'And to tell the rest of you. –'

'No, that's not what I meant, sir,' interrupted Troi. 'I don't want to know the mechanics, but what happened to you. There is something different about you, and I'm sure you don't need me to tell you what it is.'

Picard stared silently at her for a moment. 'Tea?' he said abruptly.

'Sorry?'

'Would you like a cup of tea?' said Picard, getting up and moving to the replicator.

Troi nodded. 'Earl Grey, please.'

Picard threw her a puzzled look before requesting the drinks. As the machine whirred quietly into life, he said, 'You don't often drink Earl Grey.'

Troi waited until he passed her the cup before replying. 'I like to share everything with those I see.'

Picard raised an eyebrow, but forbore to comment. Instead, he said, 'I assume you want to know how I recovered.' When Troi nodded silently, he smiled and said, 'You can wait, like the others.'

Troi's face clouded slightly. 'Sir –'

Picard held up a hand. 'I would prefer that we discussed how you all approached the issue of my insanity.'

Troi stared at Picard for a moment, knowing exactly what he had meant. 'Captain, we did what we felt was best –'

Picard interrupted her again. 'Please, Deanna, I'm not trying to place blame or fault anywhere. I don't know what you did to the _n_th degree,' he added, 'and I'm sure that whatever you did do was in what you thought were in my best interests. However, I would like to know what exactly you did.'

Troi sighed, and set down her cup on the table before her. 'Captain, when Lieutenant Thames was killed, you were completely destroyed emotionally. There was nothing any of us could do. We gave you over to the best psychiatric facilities in the Federation, and they could do nothing at all for you.'

Picard frowned. 'Then how did you heal me?'

Troi stared at Picard a moment. 'You… don't know?'

Picard shook his head. 'When my mind was restored inside the wormhole, I still had no recollection of how I was helped initially. I remember Rosanna dying on the mountain, and how I killed Admiral Nechayev, but nothing after that until I recovered enough to return to the _Enterprise_.'

'Why?' Troi realised suddenly what a golden opportunity this was for her. Picard was able to remember everything that had once driven him to the point of death, and could offer his own viewpoint on events that Trio had once believed she would ever discuss openly again.

'I don't know,' said Picard. 'All I can think is that my memories were so badly damaged by what had happened that I was not able to record them, even in the deepest recesses of my memory.'

'I've heard of that happening,' replied Troi thoughtfully. 'However, this is a unique case.'

'That's true.' Picard looked at his counsellor. 'Carry on.'

'When you were taken into care, we remained in orbit of the Tantalus facility as long as we could. Just a day before we were due to depart, Ambassador Spock arrived from Romulus.'

'Spock!' Picard exclaimed. 'How?'

Troi licked her lips nervously. This was a part of the story that only a few people knew. 'Ambassador Spock came to your wedding.'

'Spock wasn't invited,' replied Picard slowly. 'It would have been too dangerous for him to leave Romulus. I don't remember seeing him at the wedding.'

'He was there,' confirmed Troi. 'He spoke to me. Either way, he was the one who saved your life.'

'How?'

Troi hesitated. 'I was hoping that you might be able to tell me that, sir.'

'Don't you know?'

'No, he requested total privacy. It being Ambassador Spock, how could I refuse? I assumed, at the time, that it was a mind-meld of some variety.'

'At the time?' asked Picard, leaning forward inquisitively.

'Shortly after you came back aboard, Will came to see me. He showed me a report from Intelligence that he had been given by Admiral Drayton. It said that Spock never left Romulus.'

Picard stared at her, stunned. 'Not once? Then who the hell was in there with me?'

'I have no idea,' answered Troi honestly.

Picard leapt to his feet, face twisted in anger, as he began to pace the room, thoughts raging through his mind. Then he hesitated after doing this for a moment and spat out one word. '_Q!_'

'Q?'

'It had to have been him. He's the only one who could have performed such a miracle of healing! He's been behind all of this from the first moment,' snarled Picard.

Troi had never seen him this furious before, but she also felt some of it beginning to make sense. Q would have been able to disguise himself as Spock without being detected if he so wanted. He would have been able to heal Picard's mind, if no-one else could. The only question was, 'Why?'

'There's an agenda going on that I'm not aware of,' Picard replied. 'First the Aralla, then Sisko, now Q getting involved, and it all revolves around me somehow.' He dropped down onto the seat again, anger still written into every tense line of his body, but he reined it in to focus a glare onto Troi. 'What happened then?'

'You recovered very quickly, incredibly quickly for someone who was in your situation,' replied Troi, trying for calm in the face of Picard's fury. 'There was no medical reason for your recovery. However, there was also no medical reason for your collapse into madness.'

Picard's anger began to fade as he looked back on the past. 'I said, didn't I, that I could sometimes hear her thoughts?' When Troi nodded, he continued, 'That's not normal for humans, Counsellor.'

'I still haven't been able to explain it,' replied Troi. 'All I know is that somehow the two of you were connected.'

Picard nodded. 'In the last few days, shortly after our wedding, we realised that the bond was much stronger than it had ever been. I could hear her voice in my mind all the time, understand what she said even when she didn't say it. Full telepathic communication.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' said Troi, shocked by the revelation. 'This is unique in human development –'

'We planned to,' replied Picard, almost embarrassed. 'As soon as we finished our honeymoon, we were going to tell you. But circumstances prevailed against us.' His eyes became clouded, looking back on the tragedy of his past. 'Do you realise, Counsellor, this is the first opportunity since my wedding that I have been able to talk about what happened?'

Troi nodded, her face saddened as well. But before she could say anything, Picard brought himself out of his reverie, tears shining unshed in his eyes. He looked back at Troi. 'What next?'

'We attempted to continue as normal.' Troi's voice was hushed; she could not put aside what had happened in the past as effectively as Picard. Once a memory was summoned, she could not dismiss it easily. But Picard's newly resilient mental state was allowing him the strength to do exactly that, even those memories that broke his heart. 'Admiral Drayton and I conspired to destroy all references to the past that might have jeopardised your mental state – unsuccessfully as it turned out.'

'Even to the extent of deleting Rosanna's career record?'

Troi nodded, ashamed, feeling tears sting her eyes. 'Everything to protect you.'

Picard observed pityingly for a moment. 'It wasn't worth it, Counsellor. Rosanna deserved better -'

'You wouldn't be sitting here now to make that judgement!' she suddenly exploded. 'She was dead! You were still alive! I needed to keep you here!'

Troi suddenly realised that she was shaking, sobbing, her breath coming in deep gasps for air as she dissolved into tears of bitter anger and grief. She barely felt Picard move beside her and put his arms around her in a warm embrace, holding her and letting her cry her fury away.

She calmed down slowly, her tears leeching the grief and fury of two years repressed away into the ether. Picard looked compassionately upon her. 'Are you okay?'

She nodded slowly, still clutching onto him for security, feeling safe with his body beside her. 'I'm sorry, Captain,' she said eventually. 'I've never lost control like that with anyone except Will before.'

'It's all right,' replied Picard soothingly. 'I'm sorry that I drove you that far. All I wanted to know was the truth.'

'The truth?' Troi laughed bitterly. 'It hurts so badly that I can't even think the truth any longer. What we did was what we deemed right at the time. Because we love you, Captain. We all do as your friends. We'd already lost Lieutenant Thames – we didn't want to lose you too.'

Picard nodded slowly, understanding Troi's anguish, finding himself in the unusual position of counselling the Counsellor. 'Deanna,' he said quietly, 'I am sorry for this. But part of me says that I maybe shouldn't be here. Maybe I should have been allowed an ending then.'

'I disagree,' said Troi. 'You said yourself there's a larger agenda a work behind all of this. If that's the case, and Q himself intervened in your situation, then that means somebody or something wants you alive. Look on this as an opportunity to find some answers, captain.'

Picard looked steadily into her eyes for a moment, before he nodded. 'Thank you, Counsellor. I promise, you will receive your answers soon.'

Ratek strode into the _G'gerithau's_ transporter room. As he anticipated, Relesi was already there. She turned at his entrance, and threw him a formal salute. He quickly returned it, and said, 'Are we ready to go?'

Relesi nodded. 'We are prepared, Commander.'

Ratek and Relesi stepped onto the transporter pad. He glanced at the operator. 'Activate.'

In a shimmer of green energy, they were gone.

They rematerialised on the transporter pad in the Ops section of _Deep Space Nine_. Ratek felt Relesi tense up next to him. One of the Starfleet officers, tall, with a sharply angular face, turned to face him, smiling. 'Commander Ratek, I'm Fleet Captain Harris. Welcome to _Deep Space Nine_.'

Ratek inclined his head in greeting, and indicated Relesi. 'This is my first officer, Relesi.'

Captain Harris held out a hand as he walked towards them, showing them the turbolift. 'If you'd care to follow me,' he said.

They accompanied Harris into the turbolift. 'Briefing room,' he said, and the lift descended.

The briefing room of _DS9_ was only four decks down from Ops, and within a minute of beaming aboard, Ratek and Relesi found themselves confronted by ten other Starfleet officers, plus two Klingons.

The Romulans remained standing on their own as Harris called the meeting to order, and then took their seats, as did the others in the room. A moment later, a Bajoran woman joined the conference, and sat beside Harris.

Harris took a moment to observe the people in the room with him, and then began, 'I've asked you all to join me here to discuss the problem that afflicts the security of this region and the entire Alpha Quadrant. Namely this.' He pressed a key on the pad before him, and a 3-D holographic projection of the giant ship appeared above the table, rotating slowly.

Ratek examined it, suppressing the instinctive horror he felt whenever he saw that ship of death. 'Do we know anything more about it?' asked one of the officers.

'I'm afraid not, Captain Gastrovicz,' said Harris slowly. 'Although that is one reason I have invited Commander Ratek to join us. He believes the Romulan Empire may have more intelligence on this than ourselves.'

'It did come from their side of the Zone,' commented another Starfleet officer.

Ratek turned a cool glance onto the woman who had spoken. 'My superiors have given me full access to any records we possess about this ship.'

'Have you ever seen it before?'

'Until the attack on the Warbird _T'Partel_ over Kiros, I personally had never seen any ship of this configuration.'

'Do you know of any Romulan encounter with a ship of this design?'

Ratek shook his head. 'None.'

A ripple of amusement swept through the Starfleet officers, and even Harris hid a smile. Ratek narrowed his eyes. 'I fail to find anything even remotely amusing about this encounter.'

Captain Gastrovicz leaned forward, his eyes meeting the Romulan's. All Ratek read there was scorn. 'Your own superiors are keeping you in the dark, Commander.'

'At a briefing that I held just over three weeks ago,' said Harris, 'I showed the officers here a video taken from one of your old Birds-of-Prey, Commander. It showed a Romulan attack on one of these giant ships. The footage was about a century old.'

'A Romulan fleet?' asked Relesi faintly.

Harris nodded. 'Records supplied to us indicate that one of these ships was destroyed inside the Neutral Zone.'

'Then this ship –'

'Might not be alone –'

'There were two ships, Captain Harris.'

The human and the Romulan confronting each other over the table turned to face another officer. Ratek noted that he had remained absolutely silent until now, not even joining in the laughter of earlier. This man leaned forward now, and addressed them all. 'There were two ships – one was destroyed by the Romulan fleet, this other hidden on Kiros.'

'And how do you know this, Captain?' asked Harris, his tone cool.

The captain smiled. 'You'd never believe me.'

'And you are?' asked Ratek.

'Jean-Luc Picard, USS _Enterprise_.'

Ratek's eyes widened as he realised he was confronting one of the legends of Starfleet. 'Forgive me, captain,' he said. 'I was under the impression that you were dead.'

'Rumours about me have been greatly exaggerated,' replied Picard. 'Well, most of them.'

'Tell us all you know,' said Harris.

Picard eyed Harris icily for a moment, and then nodded. 'What you are about to hear is classified at the highest level.'

Captain Nasone glanced at the Romulans. 'Should we be discussing this openly?' she asked.

Picard smiled thinly. 'I have permission from Admiral Drayton.' He leaned back. 'Two years ago, I was contacted by the entity known as Q. He showed me an alternate universe wherein the Alpha Quadrant was invaded by an armada of these ships.' His smile faded slightly and his face became clouded by memories. 'Believe me when I say that what we see here is not by any means the worst they have to offer.

'They're called the Aralla. They have a group consciousness, similar to that of the Borg. Their ships are massively different to our own, and also incredibly more advanced in some areas. They have one goal – to avenge themselves on the entirety of the human race.'

'Avenge?' asked Harris.

Picard nodded. 'They come from another dimension. The Borg discovered the way in to their reality many, many years ago. The Aralla were part of an alliance, one torn apart by the Borg. But the Aralla are invulnerable to assimilation. They fought back, destroyed the Borg invaders, and then began an insane rampage across their universe. Eventually, they fell upon Earth.

'But they were defeated – an event they had never prepared themselves for. Under the assault of humanity, they were reduced to a shadow of their former power. Where hundreds of thousands of these city destroyers once roamed, only a handful survived.'

All eyes were now on Picard as he told his apocalyptic tale, never doubting, even those who did not know him. 'They found a dimensional rift between our galaxies. Using technology I can't even begin to comprehend, they forced it open, and sent scouts through about one hundred years ago.

'At first, they came in force. They sent through this ship we have encountered here and another. Your footage shows that they were attacked by Romulan forces. One ship, I know, was destroyed. But we never realised what had happened to the other. I now believe that this ship escaped the destruction of it's sister ship, and hid itself on Kiros, waiting for the rest of the Aralla fleet to emerge from the other dimension.'

'Do you have any evidence to back this up?' asked Harris.

'It's the only theory that fits all the facts,' retorted Riker. 'I can verify that everything Captain Picard is telling you now matches to the same story he told the senior crew of the USS _Enterprise _two years ago, and also the one he dictated into his personal log file.'

Harris grunted slightly, and sat back. Picard took up his story again. 'Eventually, the Aralla broke through. But crucially, they did not break through into this reality. They were instead directed towards the alternate reality that I was taken into by Q. The ship we face today was not awoken by them. I suspect it was awoken by the investigation of Kiros by the _Talkaris_.'

'How do you know about the _Talkaris_?' demanded Ratek angrily.

'I have spoken with a member of it's crew,' replied Picard. 'She was captured by the Aralla, and imprisoned along with myself. We were freed by officers from the _Enterprise_.'

Relesi suddenly jolted upright in her seat. 'Who was that officer?'

'Her name was Serisa.'

Relesi stared at him in mute shock for a moment, before a delighted smile broke out on her face, and her tense body relaxed as she slumped in her seat, overjoyed by the news. Picard and the others watched, mystified, as Relesi turned and embraced Ratek for a moment, tears spilling from her eyes.

Finally, Ratek turned and said, a wide smile on his face, 'On behalf of the Empire, I thank you for this news, Captain Picard. We are in your debt.'

'Serisa is my sister,' added Relesi, struggling for composure. 'I would appreciate it if I might speak with her.'

Picard nodded. 'She is onboard the _Enterprise_,' he replied. 'I will take you to her myself.'

He turned his attention back to the others. 'If we do not stop this ship, it will try and make contact with any of the Aralla existing on the other side of the rift. I once thought they were extinct, but so many things have changed since then, that I know we cannot take any chances.'

'How?' asked Captain Solvek. 'All we have heard is supposition, and that coming from a man who has only recently returned to us from their captivity. Who knows -?'

'The Aralla made no attempt to brainwash me,' replied Picard calmly. 'They would not understand such a thing. They want me to suffer for what I have done to them. They want me dead. But they could not comprehend that I might be used by them.'

'Captain Picard has been thoroughly examined,' added Riker. 'Doctor Crusher has found no evidence to support a claim that he might have been brainwashed.'

'What's more,' added Colonel Kira, 'Dr Bashir here on _DS9_ has also examined those records. He supports Dr Crusher's conclusions.'

Harris turned a calculating gaze onto Picard, who returned it with interest. He knew that Picard had covered all of his bases. He nodded, surrendering the battle to Picard. 'I accept what Captain Picard has told us,' he said. 'It ties in with information I had been given by Admiral Drayton. What we need to discuss next is what to do about it.'

'How do we break through that shield?' asked Captain Hainby. 'So far, all the battles we have had have not been equal contests.'

'The route I took to bring down the Aralla shields before is not open to us,' replied Picard. 'We need another option.'

'I think we need to put together an action team to remedy this,' said Solvek. 'We have a little time.'

'While this ship bears down on Romulan space,' remarked Ratek acidly.

Harris gave him a dark look. 'At its present speed, it will not enter Romulan space for a week. We have time to work on a solution and catch up with it before it leaves Federation territory. That also means that the _Enterprise_ will be able to join the assault.'

'Excellent,' said Picard, satisfied. 'The _Enterprise_ will be ready by then, I can assure you.'

Harris gave no outward sign that he had heard Picard. 'I suggest that we look for a way to break through their shields first, and then reconvene to discuss a plan of action.'

He looked around the table, his expression brooking no objections. After a moment, he said, 'Dismissed.'

The Starfleet captains moved quickly out of the room, stopping only to give their best wishes to Picard and their congratulations on his escape.

Picard made no move to leave until the other officers filed out, and he, Riker, Kira, the two Romulans and the Klingons were left alone. Then, he smiled and leaned forward. 'I trust I have your support, Mr Worf?'

Worf, who had lurked quietly at the back of the discussion nodded and grinned a warrior's grin. 'Indeed, Captain. It is good to see you again, sir.'

'Thank you,' replied Picard, pleased to see another old friend again.

'Songs have been sung for your honour aboard the _Kregh_,' added the Klingon. 'Much bloodwine was drunk when we heard of your escape from captivity.'

'I can imagine,' replied Picard. He turned his attention to Ratek and Relesi. 'Please, if you'd like to follow me.'

'A moment if you please,' said Kira, standing. 'Commander Ratek, Subcommander Relesi, as representative of the Bajoran government, I invite you both to stay onboard _DS9_ while we work out the problems raised at this meeting, as guests of the Kai of Bajor.'

Picard jumped in. 'And also as guests of the United Federation of Planets.'

Ratek glanced at Relesi, who shook her head. He smiled slightly, and said, 'I would be delighted.' Relesi jumped slightly at this, but kept her mouth shut, although her eyes burned with anger. 'However, my first officer will be returning to the _G'gerithau _as soon as she has spoken to her sister.'

Picard inclined his head. 'Very well. If you would care to come with me….'

Serisa turned to face the door of her quarters as she heard the bleep of the knocker. 'Come,' she said.

Picard stepped through the door, followed by Ratek. But behind Ratek – 'Relesi!'

The two sisters embraced, Serisa's controlled façade breaking down with relief, as Relesi's control also evaporated.

Ratek drew Picard quietly aside. 'Captain, I want to express again my deepest gratitude to you for making this possible. I can promise you my full support for whatever action you choose to take.' Ratek glanced again at the two sisters, and smiled before lowering his voice further. 'Praetor Neral has given me orders to link my fleet to yours in the event that we were able to make contact with you.'

Picard frowned. 'With me?'

'I do not trust Captain Harris,' said Ratek. 'Neral assumed, without any knowledge of your capture, that you would be in command of this fleet.'

'He was right,' replied Picard. 'I would have been were it not for… mitigating circumstances.'

'Be that as it may,' said Ratek, 'you will now take command of this fleet. I pledge the support of my fleet to yours.'

Picard looked steadily at the Romulan, trying to gauge his character. 'Thank you,' he said finally. 'However, it may not be as simple as that. Whatever we might think of him, Captain Harris is still my immediate superior. He is still in command of the fleet.'

'Captain, Praetor Neral does not trust any other humans to command this fleet responsibly. He trusts you.'

Picard stared. 'Neral was the instigator of the unification scandal. I met him, Ambassador Spock trusted him, and he betrayed any chance of successfully unifying Romulus and Vulcan.'

Ratek waved that away. 'Neral was being used,' he said. 'Back then, everyone had to bow down and do exactly as ordered by the Tal Shiar. It's a little different now,' he added. 'Since their failed attack on the Dominion, the Tal Shiar has been reined in to a certain extent.'

'What about Chairman Koval appearing on the Continuing Committee?'

Ratek smiled. 'Neral has bypassed the committee in order to offer this olive branch. Captain, this is not the time to discuss politics.'

Picard paused. 'Perhaps not now,' he mused. 'Commander, I have a suggestion for you that might benefit both of our governments, and also our current situation. I'd like to speak with you onboard the _Enterprise_ in an hour.'

Ratek eyed him for a moment. 'I will be there.'

They turned to find that the two sisters had released each other. Joy on her face, Relesi could only say, 'Thank you, Captain Picard. My family is in your debt.'

Picard tried hard not to look embarrassed. He had never seen Romulans be so open with their feelings. Despite their attachment to their passionate natures, Romulans were reserved and aloof in their dealings with other races, so as to seem superior. It was an intensely private thing for Romulans to release their emotions like this in front of an alien. 'I am glad to have been able to help reunite you. I'll leave you in private,' he finished.

'In one hour,' said Ratek. Picard nodded, and beat a retreat.

'Commander, we've analysed the shields of the alien ship.'

Riker made his way through the mass of engineers all working hard on repairing the _Enterprise's_ battle damage and the large coils of wire and equipment until he and Geordi were able to talk again without the loud noise. 'And?'

'We've discovered what might be a small flaw in their shields. In our shields, we use a single bubble of energy projected by a series of emitters and on a rotating modulation,' said Data, who had been assisting the engineer. 'However, the Aralla use a series of emitters to project an overlapping armoured effect shield.'

'That, coupled with their gigantic power reserves, is what makes their shield almost impenetrable,' said Geordi. He continued, 'However, we can focus a small beam of antiprotons from the deflector dish onto a layer of their shields.'

'What effect would that have?' asked Riker.

'In effect, the antiprotons would be able to render the shield transparent to normally tuned phaser or disruptor fire,' replied Data. 'However, it would still repel photon torpedoes, due to their solid state.'

'Still, it's an opening,' said Riker. 'Ready a full briefing for Captain Picard and the fleet commanders for tomorrow afternoon.' Riker turned away, before he paused and said, 'Data, can I have a word?'

Geordi glanced at the android and shrugged. As the chief engineer turned away to another job, Data moved beside Riker, who glanced from side to side and then said, in hushed tones, 'I need you to be in the auxiliary deflector control room in thirty minutes. Can you be there?'

Data frowned, but nodded. 'Aye, sir.'

'Good.' With that, Riker made his way out of Engineering.

Deck 13 contained many of the _Enterprise's_ auxiliary control rooms, such as deflector control and a secondary bridge. As such, it was usually clear of activity among the ship's crew, with only the occasional engineering technician making their way down to maintain routine systems.

That meant that Ratek felt unusually nervous as he made his way out of the turbolift and headed for the auxiliary deflector control room, as Picard had instructed him. He rested his hand loosely on his disruptor pistol as he walked, cautious as anyone might be, walking alone on an enemy vessel.

He had spoken with Praetor Neral about this conversation….

'Picard is alive?'

Ratek nodded. 'He and Colonel Kira of _Deep Space Nine_ have invited me to stay aboard the station for the duration of the wait before we attack the enemy ship again.'

Neral rubbed his chin. 'The Continuing Committee has been kept apprised of your progress, Commander,' he said slowly, thoughtfully. 'It is only fair to warn you that Chairman Koval is screaming for you to launch a full attack on the enemy ship.'

'With all respect to Chairman Koval, he doesn't know what he's talking about,' replied Ratek.

Neral hid a smile. 'Be that as it may, your actions will have to be explained once you return to Romulus. For the moment, you're safe. I trust you to do the right thing.'

Ratek nodded, gratified. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Don't thank me yet, Commander,' said Neral sternly. 'You may stay aboard _DS9_, and also have this conversation with Captain Picard – it may be enlightening.'

Ratek remained silent, knowing that Neral had more to say. 'I have given your request some thought, Commander,' he continued. 'It is an unusual request from one in your position.'

'My situation is unusual,' replied Ratek.

'Indeed. However, I have decided to approve your request. Upon your return from this mission, you will be debriefed, and then discharged from the service.'

Ratek smiled gratefully. 'Thank you, Praetor.'

'Not at all,' said Neral. 'Admiral Jaled was most insistent on your retirement. He has given me assurances that you will be comfortably housed and provided for with your wife.'

Ratek froze. 'Sir -?'

Neral smiled, enjoying seeing his old mentor surprised for once. 'Even without the Tal Shiar, we still know what happens. Neral out.'

Ratek sat for a moment in stunned silence. Although he had known that Jaled had offered Relesi a position as an aide, he had not been aware that the Admiral had known of their relationship.

He turned as the door slid open and Relesi entered, joy still lighting up her beautiful face. Without a word, he turned and embraced her, almost weeping in his own joy, pressing his face into her long black hair.

'What's wrong?' said Relesi, stunned by his sudden emotion. The Ratek she knew was usually a composed and restrained man, and this outburst worried her.

He said nothing, merely held her for a long moment, before he kissed her gently. When he broke the kiss, he said, 'Everything is perfect.'

Ratek found himself smiling again at the memory of Relesi's face when he told her what had happened. Suddenly, he realised that he was wandering without paying attention to where he was going, and he stopped as he tried to recall Picard's instructions.

The Romulan glanced around, and saw his destination. Looking from side to side to make sure there was no-one around, he stepped through the double doors.

The room was dark when he entered, and the feeling of apprehension increased markedly as he yanked his disruptor from it's holster and said, 'Lights!'

'My apologies, Commander,' said Picard's voice from the gloom. The human stepped forward. 'We are trying to leave no trace of our presence here.'

Ratek trained the disruptor on Picard, who looked unperturbed. 'Why no lights?'

'Even the use of power for lighting might be recorded,' said Picard quietly. 'The ones we hunt have access to everything we know and do.'

Ratek stared at him for a long moment, before he finally holstered the disruptor. 'Very well.'

Picard smiled, and turned away slightly. 'We're all here.'

'Activating forcefield,' said another voice, and behind Ratek, a blue screen of energy flashed into being. 'Initiating security protocols.'

'Lights,' said Picard, and finally the lights came up. 'Now we can't be detected,' he added.

Ratek glanced at the other faces. All but one he recognised, Commander Riker of the _Enterprise_, the android Data, and Colonel Kira. The group was seated around a small desk area set in the centre of the room, and only two chairs were unoccupied. Picard indicated that the Romulan should be seated, and once Ratek sat, Picard took his place.

The captain looked around at the small group. 'As of this moment, none of you have a full picture of what has been taking place in the background of the events of the past month. All of us have had to try and piece together information from the few sources we have had. None of it has been easy. Only Admiral Drayton and I have the full story.'

Picard turned to look at Kira and Bashir. 'Colonel, Doctor, you have been on the front lines of this situation since the beginning. I'm sorry that you were kept in the dark – Captain Sisko was to have briefed you after the war was over, but his disappearance, and then the events which followed have made that impossible.' Picard smiled slightly. 'Consider what I say to be said by him.'

Kira and Bashir looked puzzled as to Picard's oblique reference. Ratek leaned forward. 'Captain, this is all very interesting. However, why am I here? What are we talking about?'

Picard nodded, understandingly. 'For Commander Ratek's benefit, I will go quickly through the story. Commander, since the first days of the Federation's inception, there has been an organisation in existence that Starfleet has always professed ignorance of. It has a provision within the Starfleet Charter, but exists with it's remit examined by no-one. It is called Section 31.'

Bashir, who knew most of the story, took up the tale. 'Section 31 was founded by section 31 of the Starfleet Charter in the days before the Federation officially came into being. It's existence and actions have, so far, been a secret until about a year ago.'

'What happened?' asked Ratek, interested in spite of himself.

'I was contacted by a man named Luther Sloan, who purported to be a Starfleet intelligence agent; in reality, an agent of Section 31. Using a holographic simulation, he attempted to force me into admitting I was a spy for the Dominion – I had been held aboard one of their penal asteroids for some time, and he attempted to use this against me. Once I broke through their program, however, he offered me a chance to work for Section 31.'

'No-one had heard of this group at this point,' added Kira. 'It was a new name to almost everyone.'

'Sloan,' continued Bashir, 'attempted to recruit me again over the next year.' He threw a glance at Picard, who shook his head slightly. 'He said that he was the Director of Section 31, and explained a little about the organisation. They assess and neutralise all potential threats to the Federation. The Dominion they counted as the greatest threat to the Federation at this time.'

'Even over the Borg?' asked Riker.

'The Borg would be considered too out of reach for any covert action, as well as being too invulnerable in certain areas. Their attacks on our space have been sporadic and random,' said Ratek slowly, almost musing. He smiled slightly, glancing at Picard, who along with his officers, had respect in their eyes. 'Our intelligence agencies say much the same thing.'

'Either way, it was the Dominion they chose to focus their efforts on,' said Bashir. 'Section 31 were responsible for the creation of the disease that nearly exterminated the Founders. That alone makes them responsible for a huge war crime. Who knows what else they have done?'

Ratek nodded slowly. 'Then why am I here? I am an enemy alien, Captain Picard. I have no particular quarrel with you or your government, but I would be duty-bound to report back all that I know.'

Picard nodded, glancing at the others. 'We are hoping that you will, Commander. Section 31 is out of control, and answers to no-one. Their actions mean that the Federation could easily be brought to trial for war crimes and attempted genocide by anyone who knows what we have told you. Our hope is to expose Section 31, arrest its leaders and destroy it forever.'

'Why do you need a Romulan, Captain?' Ratek's question was straight, and Picard knew he wanted a straight answer.

'You're outside the box, Commander. No-one here trusts you,' said Picard frankly. 'You don't trust us.'

Ratek nodded, calm. Picard continued, 'But I am prepared to break that wall down now. Build a bridge between our two peoples, based on what we are prepared to do for each other. We went to war together, to stop the Dominion. Let's take it one step further, and build something lasting here, now. If we destroy Section 31 together, Starfleet will share all data, information and technologies that they might possess. The technology for the genetic weapon they used might be banned, but it's very existence indicates what they might have hidden away.'

Picard held out his hand to the Romulan who eyed it for a moment. For that brief second, Picard saw traces of Serisa's paranoia rise up in the older man, before he reached out and shook Picard's hand. 'Very well. I will go along with your plan. Praetor Neral gave me orders to co-operate fully with yourselves.'

Picard raised an eyebrow but forbore to comment. 'Very well,' he said.

He turned to face the others. 'What I am planning will lead to the ultimate removal of Section 31 as an issue Starfleet has to deal with.'

'Do we have approval from Starfleet?' asked Data.

A flicker of amusement crossed Picard's face. 'Not strictly speaking,' he replied. 'This has, so far, been a private matter between myself, Captain Sisko, and Admiral Drayton.'

Riker raised an eyebrow. 'You mean that this is all we have?'

'Afraid so,' replied Kira. 'Section 31 has too many tentacles to spread this about too far.'

'I like a challenge.'

Harris stared blankly at the viewscreen, reading the short message displayed on it, when the bleeper of the door went off. 'Come in.'

Picard entered the room, not at all fazed by having to knock to enter his own ready room. 'You wished to see me, sir?'

Harris nodded, not taking his eyes from the viewer for a moment. 'I've just received word from Starfleet Command,' he said. 'I'm being recalled to Earth for reassignment.'

Picard raised an eyebrow quizzically. 'May I ask why?'

Harris looked up at Picard. 'Captain, you were originally earmarked for command of this mission. If it had not been you, then Ben Sisko would have taken it. But as you were both unavailable, it fell to me. Well,' he continued, not hiding his anger, 'now you're back, I have to surrender the _Enterprise_ and the mission to you again.'

'Very well,' replied Picard, only a trace of sympathy crossing his face. 'When will you transfer command?'

'The USS _Colt_ will be arriving at 2000 hours tomorrow to ferry me to Earth,' replied Harris, reining his temper in. 'I'll transfer command at 1930 hours on the bridge.'

Picard nodded. 'Understood.'

'One more thing,' added Harris. 'I'm aware that I've not established a solid rapport with the crew, but I want you to realise I had nothing more than the best interests of Starfleet at heart. Whatever they may tell you, that at least is true.'

Picard's formal demeanour broke for a moment. 'Captain, if I might speak freely for a moment, your actions while aboard this ship have not been geared to gain the trust of my officers. What's more, I feel you deliberately went out of your way to alienate Commander Riker.'

Harris's face clouded as he moved closer to Picard. 'I don't care what you think, Picard. You have this mission and this ship back. You're welcome to them. You can find me on _Deep Space Nine_.'

Turning on his heel, Harris stormed from the ready room, as Picard watched him go, surprised by the anger the other had shown.

Forgetting about it for a moment, Picard smiled as he luxuriated in the feel of his own office once again. He made his way to the seat behind his desk and sank down into it, closing his eyes and leaning back for a moment, in unguarded freedom.

For a moment, he rested, feeling the weight on his shoulders depart momentarily, before his eyes opened and he remembered he had one last task.

Sitting upright, he turned to face the small viewer on his desk, breathing deeply for a moment, preparing himself. 'Computer, activate security lock-out Drayton, 411-alpha.'

'Lockout active.'

'Disengage lockout, authorisation code Picard 8-5-gamma omicron.'

'Lockout disengaged.'

'Establish link to Starfleet archives. Retrieve all biographical data for Lieutenant Rosanna Thames, and display.'

Immediately the screen filled with data, scrolling down the screen. But Picard's attention was caught by the single image displayed next to the reams of words. Silently, he reached out and laid a finger on the picture, smiling gently. 'Hello, Rosanna,' he whispered.

And, for a brief second, he thought he heard her voice saying, '_My love….'_

The door bleeped. Picard took his hand away from the screen and composed himself. When he felt sure of his voice, he said, 'Come.'

Troi and Riker entered the room. 'We just saw Captain Harris make a dramatic exit,' said Riker, not sounding displeased.

Picard smiled slightly at his first officer's cheek, not taking his eyes from the screen. Troi had made her way around the desk to see what Picard was so focussed on. What she saw worried her slightly. 'Captain…?'

Picard did not look at her, but the reassurance in his voice was palpable. 'I needed to do this, Deanna,' he said. 'I needed to see what was here.'

'How did you -?'

'Admiral Drayton gave me the authorisation to unlock Rosanna's records,' said Picard quietly.

'I thought he had deleted those records,' replied the counsellor, startled.

'He kept them because he felt that it was wrong to destroy her memory completely,' replied Picard. 'Once I died, it would have been the plan to release her details – in her memory, and for her family's sake. Her mother has not been seen in public since Rosanna was killed, you know.'

'You can't feel guilty for that, sir,' said Riker.

Picard looked at his friend for the first time. 'I can, and will, Number One,' he replied. 'If Rosanna had never met me, she would still be alive now. If Q had not brought the Aralla through the rift, we would never have been in this situation. There are lots of things in this world that I might be guilty of, but this I know truly to have been the only one that is unforgivable.'

Riker and Troi didn't reply, knowing there was nothing that they could say which might help. Picard switched off the viewer with a stab of his finger, and stood up slowly. 'I don't intend for it to get in the way of my duty, Will,' he added. 'But for the moment, I would appreciate the subject being left alone.'

It came out as an order, and Riker, so used to hearing his captain's "command" tone, didn't even think about it. 'Aye, sir.'


	12. Fatal Mistake

_Chapter XII_

The door closed slowly behind him. He took a deep breath, and stared silently at the far wall, not seeing, but focusing himself.

After a moment, he reached down and placed his commbadge and rank insignia on the low table beside the couch and moved towards the bedroom.

* * *

Ratek nodded. 'Very well, Relesi,' he said. 'I leave the fleet in your hands. We will depart on Captain Picard's orders.' 

'Understood, sir,' replied his first officer.

Ratek was about to close the channel when he noticed the look of disquiet on Relesi's face. 'What's wrong?'

'I wish you would reconsider this!' Relesi burst out.

'What?' asked Ratek, knowing full well what she meant.

'Staying onboard a Starfleet station!' Relesi's voice was angry and afraid at the same time. 'The Federation cannot be trusted.'

'So I've been told,' replied Ratek wryly. Before Relesi could jump on him again, he said, 'I have faith in Captain Picard and Colonel Nerys. I will be safe.'

Relesi stared at him for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to calm herself concern over and above that of a first officer showing on her face. 'Understood,' she said finally, keeping all of her personal concerns below the veneer of duty. '_G'gerithau_ out.'

Ratek's face dropped the moment that Relesi vanished from the small relay screen. He was not nearly as serene about the prospect of staying aboard _DS9_ as he made out. On more than one occasion, he had nearly jumped to his feet and ran to the nearest transporter.

But every time that happened, he reminded himself that his duty was to follow the orders given to him by the Praetor.

* * *

He knew his orders as if by rote. He stripped his uniform off and knelt down beside the low bed. Reaching out, his fingers found a small box, and he dragged it out from its cover and placed it carefully upon the bed. 

He pressed a pair of keys on the side, and a small datapad came to life. He quickly pressed a sequence of numbers into it, knowing that one number wrong would incinerate the contents.

The lid sprung open. He reached in and took out a single-piece suit of pure black material, designed to deflect scanners and block tricorder lifesign scans. He slipped into it carefully.

Then, he picked up a couple of small pieces of equipment – one, a small transport beacon, designed to transmit a signal to the other piece, which he attached to the replicator. It would focus the replicator's matter stream to become a short-range transporter, an escape mechanism.

Finally, he picked up a small hand phaser. This was not keyed to register on _DS9's_ computer system, and produced a discharge that could not be picked up on the internal scanners. It was very specialised equipment.

He was ready.

* * *

Ratek hummed a song to himself as he made ready for bed. The quarters he had been assigned were huge by Romulan standards, and he made sure that he enjoyed every minute of using them.

* * *

He looked up at the ceiling of his room and gauged the width of the panel he would need to remove. He picked up a laser cutter from his bedside table, one he had appropriated from a member of the Starfleet crews working on the _Enterprise_. 

He set it to a medium level, the highest setting he could without alerting an overcautious security officer to a laser discharge in the Habitat Ring. He grabbed a chair, positioned it under the right point, stood on it, and set to work.

* * *

The transporter in Ops suddenly came to life. Unannounced, Picard materialised on the platform. Nog, the senior officer, snapped to attention. 'Captain on deck!' 

Picard immediately stared at the young Ferengi. 'Where is Colonel Kira?'

Nog glanced up at the commander's office. 'She's in her office, sir,' he said, but Picard was already halfway up the stairs by then.

He paused as the doors slid aside, and said, 'We need to talk.'

Then the doors closed, and Nog could hear no more.

* * *

He caught the panel as it fell slightly upon being severed from the rest of the ceiling, and stared silently into the dark Jeffries Tube above. After a moment, he took a palm beacon from his belt and attached it to his hand, shining the light into the tube. 

Hooking his arms into the tube, he levered himself in with ease.

Taking a moment to orient himself, he moved out.

* * *

Ratek sat in his chair reading a padd. An old Romulan story, the Tale Of Jalit Dar, had been an old favourite of his from before he had joined the Romulan Navy. He sat facing the stars, while he read. 

This form of Romulan writing, from just a few centuries after the Sundering, required the reader to contemplate the universe around him at certain points in the story. Although written several decades before the Romulans discovered warp drive, space was obviously the best place to do this. When the story demanded it, Ratek would stare silently at the stars, immersing himself in the cosmos.

* * *

He crawled to the next intersection, patiently checking the network he had displayed on the reverse of his palm beacon. 

He turned left and continued on his way.

* * *

Ratek set the book aside on the small table beside his chair and stood up, heading for his sleeping quarters. He stared at his face in the mirror for a moment, reflecting silently on the grey that had entered his hair in the last few years. 

He got ready for bed.

* * *

A panel popped out of the bulkhead on the Habitat Ring and clattered to the deck. 

A head leaned quietly out of the newly opened space, checking visually what his tricorder had confirmed to him a moment before - there was no-one there.

He didn't seal the panel behind, knowing it would not be investigated before he completed his task.

Holstering the tricorder, he drew his phaser, checking it was on its highest setting.

One last time, he checked his location, not wanting to shoot the wrong person.

Diplomatic quarters, room 919-alpha.

He inspected the locking mechanism and nodded, seeing it was locked. No problem. He keyed in his security override.

* * *

Ratek walked through into the living quarters to pick up his book and paused. He turned to face the door, hearing a soft beeping.

* * *

The door slid aside, and the assassin stepped in, professionally seeking out his target. His eyes widened in shock. 

'Got you!' said Kira. Her phaser beam lanced out and sent the assassin crashing to the ground.

Ratek heard the phaser discharge in the next room, and glanced at the other person in the room. 'It appears you were right,' he said.

Picard nodded silently. A knock came at the door. Picard fingered the phaser beside him. 'Colonel?'

'It's me,' said Kira's voice. Picard released the phaser and keyed the lock. The door slid aside and the Bajoran stepped through, dragging a black-clad body behind her. Two security officers took up positions outside the room.

Picard stood. 'Take off the mask.'

Kira did so, revealing the face of Commander Stent. Picard nodded grimly. 'I thought so.'

Kira's face clouded with anger and she kicked the prone figure hard in the ribs. She stepped away, controlling her fury and glanced at Ratek. 'His phaser was set to kill. It was an assassination attempt.'

'By Section 31,' said Picard quietly. 'They don't want the Romulans involved in this.'

'And by that token, we shall remain involved,' replied Ratek.

'Thank you, Commander,' said Picard. 'The officers outside are from the _Enterprise_,' he added. 'They will remain on guard for the rest of the night. We don't know how far the security here on _DS9_ has been compromised.'

'A wise precaution.'

Picard stood and gazed down at Stent's prone figure. He glanced at Kira. 'I'm sorry, Colonel.'

Kira's face was a study in repressed rage as she stared down at Stent. 'This one is the one who'll be sorry.' She tapped her commbadge. 'Kira to Ops. Two to beam to the security office.'

She and the black-clad figure vanished in the sparkle of the transporter. Picard turned to face Ratek again. 'Sleep well, Commander.' He strode from the room.

Ratek watched him go as the door slid shut. 'I will now.'

* * *

'Sometimes I think I worry too much,' said Riker, as he, Kira and Data stood in the security office of _DS9_, 'and then something like this happens.' 

'I'm just glad it wasn't someone like Nog,' replied Kira, her temper under noticeably better control. 'Stent's not been here that long, and it would have been more damaging for us if he hadn't been aware of how Chief O'Brien and Odo configured the security alerts to register for unusual replicator activity and energy discharges. Plus, if it had been someone like Nog, I would have ripped his head off there and then,' she added offhandedly.

Riker winced slightly. At that moment, Picard stepped through the door, followed by Captain Harris. The Fleet Captain's mood had grown worse, Riker noted, since Picard had returned.

'I want to see him,' Harris was saying as they entered the room. 'If he's tried to assassinate someone like Ratek, there's no telling what he was trying to achieve. If one of their officers died while on a Federation outpost and there was even a suspicion that is was an assassination, we would have more than unidentified alien ships coming out the Neutral Zone. And the fact that we have a fleet of Romulan Warbirds just orbiting the station means they would get a free shot!'

Although Harris seemed unduly angry at the situation, Riker was forced to agree with him, albeit grudgingly. And from the looks of Picard, so did he. 'All we can do is try to find out the facts,' replied Picard, his voice conciliating.

Harris ignored him and strode through the door to the main cell area. The others followed him.

Stent was stood, facing away from them as they entered. He turned to face the small party as they entered, throwing cold eyes across them. Far from being the nervous officer Riker had met a few days earlier, this man had the soulless eyes of a professional killer. It sent a slight shudder up his spine as he saw how thoroughly someone could hide their true self behind a veneer of polished lies.

Harris strode up the invisible forcefield to glare directly at the Bolian. 'What the hell were you trying to do?'

Stent regarded him emotionlessly. 'What I attempted was for the good of the Federation.'

'You could have started a war,' said Picard, stood on the far side of the cell area.

Stent ignored him and turned away again. 'I have my reasons.'

'You had no record of links to pro-Federation extremist groups,' said Data. 'Your service record indicates nothing that might lead you to act in this fashion. Logically -'

'He's not concerned with logic, Commander,' replied Kira, not taking her eyes from the prisoner. 'He's a killer.'

'An assassin,' corrected Harris. 'He knows the consequences of his actions.'

It seemed to Riker that Stent straightened slightly when he heard that. He turned and regarded them again. 'If your intent is to interrogate me, then I suggest you begin. If not, leave me and I will await Starfleet Intelligence.'

Harris glared at Stent for a moment, and then turned on his heel and left. Kira waited only a moment, to add, 'Be glad they never let me loose on you.' She followed Harris out.

'Well,' said Picard, 'now we're alone, do you mind telling me what you know?'

Stent threw a glance at Picard. 'Only that you are a fool if you think I would confess anything to you.'

'Well, maybe so,' replied Picard affably, moving away from the wall and towards the cell, 'but then Starfleet might not be the ones to interrogate you.'

A hint of wariness entered Stent's eyes. 'Your meaning?'

'Well, you did try to assassinate a Romulan commander,' said Riker, 'and I imagine that, given the spirit of goodwill between us and the Romulans, once Starfleet Intelligence has performed it's preliminary interrogation, you might conceivably be turned over to the Tal Shiar.'

'Starfleet would never allow that,' replied Stent, but his tone betrayed his unease.

'Times change,' said Riker. 'And what with the end of the war, we can't waste time worrying about rogue elements. Better to let the Romulans handle it.'

'If you won't speak to us…' said Picard, his voice trailing off.

Stent knew where this conversation was headed. 'Thank you,' he said sardonically. 'But I'll take my chances with Starfleet.'

Riker smiled slightly. 'Don't say we didn't warn you.'

* * *

'What do you think?' asked Riker quietly as they left the security office. They paused on the Promenade near Quark's. 

'He's tough,' replied Picard, equally quietly, throwing a glance at Quark's, grateful for the noise covering their conversation. 'And he's definitely working for Section 31.'

'He won't break under that sort of verbal pressure. We'd need to do some serious work on him to get him to talk to us,' added Data.

'No, I'm not so sure he would at all,' said Riker slowly. 'There's something not quite making sense here.'

Picard stopped and turned to face Riker. 'What do you mean?'

Riker looked at his captain. 'It makes no sense for Section 31 to come all the way out to the frontier simply to assassinate one Romulan commander. There must be something for them to gain.'

'There has been no interference from Section 31 with the main objective of the mission until now,' said Data. 'The Aralla have allowed them to operate without too much attention before now. Maybe it was the thought that we were somehow getting too close.'

'Maybe,' said Picard thoughtfully. 'But, maybe not. What if the thing we're looking for is closer than we thought?'

'Captain?'

'We're looking for a link to Section 31, and we have one. But it's not the right one,' said Picard slowly. 'There's another strand ready to be pulled. And, if Section 31 is trying to distract us in such a risky way, I think it could be a big strand.'

'I don't like the thought of that,' said Riker.

'If that is true,' said Data, 'it would mean that the closer we get to the centre, the more dangerous they will become.'

'We all knew that from the beginning,' Picard told him. 'Before now, we weren't getting any sort of reaction from Section 31 at all. That's what leads me to believe that we're getting close to them.'

'An enemy as elusive as Section 31 isn't going to go down without a fight,' said Data.

'Agreed. We need a bait to lure them out.' Picard looked at the others. 'I think that bait should be the Aralla.'

After a moment's consideration, the others nodded.

* * *

'The repairs are going faster than anticipated,' said Geordi as he addressed the other officers in the _Enterprise_ briefing room. 'I estimate we will be able to get underway anytime in the next five hours.' 

Even Picard raised an eyebrow, impressed by his chief engineer's success. 'Well done, Mr La Forge. Will we be back to fighting readiness?'

La Forge nodded, a measure of his old irrepressible confidence entering his eyes. 'You'd better believe it, sir.'

'Tactical?' asked Picard, directing his question at Riker.

'The fleet stands ready for your order, captain,' said the first officer. 'The Romulan fleet has indicated it's readiness as well.'

At that moment, the door opened, admitting two new faces to the gathering, Doctor Crusher, followed by Hedly.

Picard got to his feet, smiling widely at Hedly and Crusher.. 'Commander, it's good to see you back on your feet.'

'Thank you, sir,' she said. 'I'm reporting for duty.'

'Take your place, Commander,' Picard said, knowing his security chief would want to get straight back to work. Hedly dropped into her chair gratefully.

Picard paused for a moment, looking at his crew – his friends. 'I know the last few weeks have been difficult for all of us. I was aware, once, that the conflict with the Aralla could spill over into this world. I never thought it might happen in this way.'

'What do you believe their objectives are?' asked Hedly.

Picard paused, and then smiled gently. 'I have no idea.'

There was a longer silence, and then Riker leaned back in his chair, and said, 'We're screwed.'

Troi hid a smile as Picard replied, 'Not quite. We know they're headed for the Romulan border, and we know they have a certain… genocidal tendency. My belief is that they are going to attack another planet in the Neutral Zone.'

'But why?' asked Crusher. 'All we know of them tells us that they are ruthless killers. Their ships are virtually indestructible and they enjoy massive superiority in firepower. They've had enough opportunities to strike massive blows against either us or the Romulans. Even here, they could have destroyed _Deep Space Nine_, and two attack fleets from either side of the border, and then gone on to Bajor itself. We couldn't have stopped them.'

'Sir, I've analysed all of the data we collected on that ship,' said La Forge, 'They are utilising power way off the scale. But that usage is increasing.'

Picard frowned. 'Increasing?'

La Forge nodded. 'Data and I plotted out their consumption of energy over the next few hours. By the time they reach the Romulan border, they'll be using too much energy to safely power their warp drive. They're going to have to discharge it somehow.'

'Is it the key to their new weapon?' asked Riker.

'Possibly,' said Data. 'We have no specifics, but the captain has said that the Aralla ship was unusually deserted and dark. It is possible that they are rerouting power from all sections into one area. That would cause the power build-up that we have seen.'

'If they routed all of the power through their central weapon,' said Picard slowly, as if testing out water that might be scalding hot, 'what would happen?'

'They would be able to blow apart a planet with a single shot, sir,' replied La Forge, his voice emotionless.

There was another moment of horrified silence. 'We certainly don't want that,' said Riker lightly.

'Could they be planning a strike on Romulus?' asked Troi.

'The Aralla aren't concerned with the balance of power,' said Picard. 'From what I've experienced, their only goal is to cause pain and death. I think they're after something bigger than that.' He looked at Data. 'Data, find out what planets, if any, they'll come nearest to on their present course before they reach the Romulan border. That includes the Neutral Zone.'

'Yes, sir,' replied the android.

'Geordi, see if you can find a way to get through their shields without having to resort to boarding their ship. I really don't want to have to do that again,' continued the captain.

'Will do,' said Geordi.

'I'll need to look at your analysis of the battle between the Lysian-Satarran fleet and the Aralla, as well as what happened when the _Nadesico_ was destroyed.' Picard directed this at Hedly.

'You'll have it in the hour,' said Hedly.

'Good. I'm going to be giving the final launch order to the rest of the taskforce at 2300 hours,' said Picard. 'We go at 0600 tomorrow. I know I can count on all of you. Dismissed.'

* * *

The _Enterprise_ readied itself for war. Frenzied preparations, already running at full speed, exploded into further action. Engineers rushing to fix the final repairs to the hull and the computer systems, other officers hurrying between their various duties, readying the ship for its battle. 

Picard and Riker made their way calmly through the organised chaos on deck 12, talking quietly. 'Colonel Kira has asked if the _Defiant_ can be attached to the taskforce,' said Riker.

'We have enough ships,' said Picard. 'One more will not make any difference.'

'She won't be happy,' replied Riker.

'There's no need to jeopardise any more good officers than we need to,' said Picard. 'I'm more worried about being led into a trap. The Aralla do a good line in deceit. If they are leading us into another trap –'

Riker stopped. 'What do you mean?'

Picard looked at his friend. 'My worry is that the Aralla may be seeking to gain another way into their alternate reality. They may try to release the rest of their forces into our galaxy. And then the galaxy will burn – again.'

'In the same way as Admiral Nechayev tried,' said Riker.

'Indeed,' said Picard. He drew Riker further of to the side of the corridor. 'I won't let that happen again. I can still see every moment of the Aralla War clearly in my mind, and I'd destroy this ship and the entire taskforce to stop it.'

Riker looked at the conviction burning in the captain's eyes. 'I know, sir. The rest of the crew feels the same way.'

Picard looked away and smiled slightly, as if at a private joke. 'Maybe.' He looked at Riker. 'I need to speak with the other captains. We need to lay out a plan of attack.'

'I'll convene a meeting,' replied Riker. 'Are we inviting the Romulans?'

'Of course, Will,' replied Picard. 'I can't imagine them wanting to miss this. Get Captain Harris to come as well,' he added off-handedly. 'He ought to be able to make it before the _Colt_ arrives.'

With that, Picard turned and walked away. Riker frowned at his retreating back, wondering why he wanted Harris at the meeting. Then he shrugged, trusting that his captain was right. Even after all they had gone through, he knew that he could still trust his friend.

* * *

'I was under the impression that Picard would not recover.' 

The figure on the small viewscreen shrugged helplessly. 'From what happened to him two years ago, I can't believe that he has. His mind should have broken down completely. He must have had outside help.'

'He did not do what we expected him to do –'

'With all respect, we could not accurately predict what he would do. His insanity made him, by definition, unpredictable.'

'The last thing you expected him to do was to appear on that ship! He ruined all of our plans!'

The other person recoiled from his superior's anger. 'There is still time –'

'There may be time, but I am in a precarious position,' interrupted the other. 'Stent's failure has exposed us here. Bashir suspects our involvement.'

'If I might say, it was unwise to –'

'Your opinion is not required. The plan will go ahead as scheduled.'

'But if you don't have that ship doing damage here or escaping to the Dominion, you'll never be able to get most of Starfleet to back you!' complained the figure on the viewscreen.

'Painting that ship as being affiliated with the Romulans in some way will be as rewarding as telling them that the ship had allied itself with the Dominion. We will be able to deal with the Romulan threat first and move onto the Dominion later.'

There was a pause before the other man spoke, his face wearied. 'Sir, I cannot help but feel that the risks inherent in your plan are not worth the potential gains.'

'Control over the Alpha and Beta Quadrants? A chance to push the war into Dominion held-territory?' The man raised an eyebrow. 'We've already had this discussion before. The Section approved it.'

'Starfleet Command did not!' retorted the other.

'Starfleet Command has no place making these decisions. They are too timid to acknowledge and do those things that must be done. We're in a war here. The Dominion isn't going to sit on the other side of the wormhole forever. Now is our chance to take the initiative and strike hard at them. If the Founders hadn't been given the cure to the genetic plague, we'd already be fighting the Jem'Hadar in their territory. We need to move forward.' The man leaned forward. 'Your part in this is over, Joe. Bear in mind that if I fall, the Section will fall with me. Once they realise you've been colluding with us, you will be arrested and held accountable too.'

Joseph Kelner stared his screen for a moment, feeling the icy fingers of despair clutching at him, wishing, not for the first time, that he had never gotten involved with Section 31 and their shady plans for the Federation. Defeated, he nodded. 'I only hope that you are right in your predictions.'

'Don't worry,' replied the other. 'It's too late for them to do anything about it now. As soon as that ship enters Romulan space, it will be declared that the Romulans are trying to force the issues over Cardassian reparations and territorial seizures by allying themselves with a new powerful force in order to dominate the Federation and Klingon Empire. We will destroy the Romulans and then, with the Klingons at our side and the Romulans and Cardassians crushed beneath our feet, we will take on the Dominion.'

Kelner stared at the man for a moment, suddenly realising the depth of the issues he was involved with. 'I wasn't aware of this.'

'You aren't part of the Section, Joe. Your input wasn't necessary. We only needed you to do a job for us. Now that's done, and we can go our separate ways.'

'They'll come for me if you get caught,' replied Kelner, a hint of desperation crossing his face. 'That's what you said. We can't just go our separate ways now.'

'Then you had better hope we don't get caught.' With a stab of his finger, the viewer was deactivated.

A few quicker commands later, and he was connected to another viewscreen. The Vulcan face that appeared looked unsurprised to see him. Before he could speak, the man said, 'Commander Stallek, I need you to do a job for me.'

'I await your orders,' replied the Vulcan.

* * *

After the channel closed, Stallek leaned back in his chair, pondering the nature of the orders. Although what the leader of Section 31 had told him to do was not difficult, it might cause problems with Admiral Drayton. However, Drayton knew his place in the great scheme of things. 

Stallek glanced at the chronometer on the wall, noting the time as 2135 hours. He had prepared to leave the office before his call had interrupted him and he now stood, picking up his briefcase from where it had been laid on the desk.

As he turned to leave, the door to Admiral Drayton's office slid open, and Drayton's head appeared in the doorway. 'Stallek, would it be possible to have a quick word before you go?'

Stallek inclined his head. 'By all means, Admiral.'

Stallek followed Drayton into his office. The Admiral walked past his desk, turning away from Stallek to face the small cabinet behind the desk. Stallek decided to forge straight ahead. 'Admiral Delnar has asked me to recall the taskforce pursuing the unidentified alien ship near Romulan space.'

'Leave the _Enterprise_ to chase it alone?' asked Drayton, noncommittally.

'The Admiral believes that the ships are better deployed along the Cardassian border,' replied Stallek, following his script dutifully. 'If the ship is retreating to Romulan space, the Romulans can deal with it. The _Enterprise_ is to be assigned to long-range patrol in sector 55842.'

Drayton nodded, his back still to the Vulcan. 'I understand, Commander. However, I won't approve that order.'

Stallek paused, surprised, although his unemotional face did not show it. 'Why, sir?'

'This is why,' replied Drayton. He turned, and Stallek's eyes went wide as he saw the phaser. Drayton fired, blasting Stallek onto his back, stunned.

The door slid open and Admirals Delnar and Ballas appeared in the doorway, two security guards behind them. Delnar took one glance at Stallek's body and smiled slightly. 'We got the entire transmission.'

'Good,' replied Drayton. 'Guards, put Commander Stallek under guard. Starfleet Intelligence will be speaking to him shortly. Admiral Ballas, get that communication to Captain Picard. He'll need it.'

Ballas nodded. 'He'll get in the hour. I understand he intends to go after the alien ship.'

'That's right. With any luck, we'll be able to clear his back before he sets out,' said Drayton. He looked at Stallek's face as the guards carried out the Vulcan, his voice growing heated. 'I could never understand how they were being able to carry out such important missions without being caught. Stallek's been in that role for nearly twenty years. My own damned adjutant!'

'We've got our first chance now,' said Delnar. 'I'll have him checked for neural implants and the like before he awakes.'

Drayton put down the phaser. 'Let's hope we can stop it before it gets too far. Issue the recall order, Admiral.'

Delnar nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

As the Andorian and Ballas left the office, Drayton sank into his chair, feeling sad that his last weeks in the post would be marked by what would be coming soon. First the arrests, and then the trials, the exposures of secrets and lies carried out with Starfleet's implied blessing. So little done about Section 31 in the many years of its existence, and now he would bear the brunt of that impact when he exposed it to the galaxy.

* * *

'Doctor Bashir to the Security office!' The call blared suddenly through the Infirmary as Bashir sat looking at test results. He jumped to his feet, knowing the reason for the sudden call. 

He sprinted the short distance along the Promenade to the security office, carrying his med kit. He dashed straight through, past the on duty lieutenant, knowing the exact cell he was heading for. What he saw confirmed his worst fears.

Commander Stent lay on the deck of his cell, gasping in pain. Bashir slammed off the forcefield control and leapt to the Bolian's side, immediately running his tricorder over the convulsing body. What he saw made him pale. He whirled on the lieutenant. 'What did he eat?'

'He had a glass of water, and some eggs,' replied the officer, looking wide-eyed at Stent's gasping figure.

Bashir's eyes widened in horror. He hit his commbadge. 'Bashir to Ops! Emergency transport for two to the Infirmary!'

He dematerialised in a shower of energy.

* * *

'I heard the news,' said Picard as he and Kira entered the Infirmary. He looked at Bashir, who wore a surgical gown and looked exhausted. 'How is he?' 

Bashir didn't answer, only sank onto one of the biobeds, ripping his gloves from his hands. Kira knew the signs. 'What was it?'

'He poisoned himself,' replied the doctor, his voice quiet. 'Bolian eggs have a chemical in them which is harmless unless mixed with another element. For Bolians, this is part of the allure. Drinking the right element after eating them produces an unusual reaction in the stomach lining which can be a powerful intoxicant. Unfortunately, if the element is incorrectly treated, it creates an acid compound which dissolves the internal organs.'

Picard twisted his face in disgust. 'What was the element and why wasn't it screened out?'

'Because the element is simple H2O,' replied Bashir. 'When produced, untreated by Bolian standards, it produces the acid compound. He drank enough to destroy his intestines, lungs, kidney and liver within minutes. It was agonising.' The young doctor's face was drawn. 'I should have told the security staff not to allow him to touch them. I thought –' His head dropped, sadness bending his shoulders.

'Commander Stent's loyalties to Section 31 were strong enough to make him kill himself to protect them,' Picard's said after a moment, reassuring the doctor. 'I don't think there was anything we could have done to stop him from doing it one way or the other. It is a tragedy, but he inflicted it upon himself.'

'We've lost our only link to Section 31,' said Kira, looking up at the captain. 'That's more than a tragedy. It's a disaster.'

Picard's face grew solemn. 'His orders were to self-terminate to protect the Section. I think there is something larger at work here than we realise.'

'Ops to Picard.'

Picard tapped his badge. 'Picard here.'

'Captain, we have a priority signal coming in from Starfleet Command. It's Admiral Delnar,' said Dax's voice.

'I'll take it in Doctor Bashir's office,' replied Picard, glancing at the doctor who nodded.

Kira watched as Picard activated the viewscreen in Bashir's separate office and proceeded to talk with the Admiral. After a moment, Picard's eyes grew wide and he began to smile, his expression becoming almost wondrous.

He held up a hand to the screen and turned to face Kira. 'Get Commander Riker down here now. Don't use the communications system.'

Kira realised exactly what he meant, and didn't bother to nod before she bolted out of the door. Bashir looked up at Picard, puzzled. 'Why?'

Picard smiled victoriously. 'We've got them.'

* * *

Riker was sat on the couch in his quarters, having a quiet drink, when his communicator bleeped. He sat up, swivelled the desktop monitor around to face him and activated it. 'Riker here.' 

Hedly's face appeared on the screen as her voice came through, sounding worried. 'Commander, we just received a communiqué from Starfleet Command. It was for the attention of Captain Harris to be forwarded to all taskforce senior officers.'

'What was the message?'

Hedly paused. 'Sir, the taskforce is being recalled and reassigned.'

Riker shot bolt upright, glaring at the monitor. 'When?'

'Effective immediate,' replied Hedly. 'Sir, it came direct from Admiral Drayton's office.'

'I don't care if it came from God, Commander,' growled Riker, anger burning in his tone. 'I need to speak to Captain Picard immediately.'

'He's on the Promenade on _DS9_,' replied Hedly immediately.

'Acknowledged,' replied the first officer. He stood, deactivating the monitor and strode towards the door.

As he hurried down the corridor towards the transporter room, he nearly ran into Kira, who stopped, surprised to find him there. 'Commander Hedly said you were in your quarters.'

'I haven't got time at the moment,' started Riker, but Kira cut him off.

'Captain Picard needs to speak to you.'

'Good,' replied Riker, 'I was just on my way to see him.'

'Excellent,' Kira said, breaking into his flow again. 'Then let's not waste time.' With that, she turned and walked quickly towards the transporter room, leaving Riker trailing in her wake, a little dumbfounded.

* * *

Riker and Kira entered the Infirmary to find a visibly excited Bashir, recovered from his despondency over Stent's death. His eyes virtually twinkled as he smiled at Kira. 'This is it, Colonel,' he said, barely able to restrain himself. 'This is the key to Section 31.' 

Riker looked at Kira, surprised. 'Section 31? You didn't say –'

'I thought it was best not to,' replied Kira. 'We can talk safely here. Computer, initiate security protocols.'

A forcefield flashed into place over the doorway, and sounds from the Promenade grew muted. It was then that Riker noticed that there were no patients or doctors in the room.

Picard stepped through from the office. 'I'm sorry about this, Will. However, the situation has changed. If Section 31 knew we had this information, we would probably be dead now.'

'What is it?' asked Riker, ignoring his own anger for a moment.

Picard walked over to a console and tapped a few commands into the console. As the conversation between Commander Stallek and the other figure played out on the screen, Riker's eyes grew wider and wider with shock.

When the screen went blank, Picard took a small data rod from the console, and handed it to Bashir. 'See this stays safe.'

Bashir nodded silently, taking hold of the rod as if it were the most precious jewel in the galaxy. Picard turned to Kira and Riker, his face calm. 'You already know most of the story relating to 31,' he said. 'However, there is another part of the story that I have only just become aware of. Admirals Drayton, Delnar, and Ballas have been working together for some time now to expose what they saw as rogue elements in Starfleet Intelligence. Up until recently, they had been fairly unsuccessful. That all changed a short time ago.'

Picard turned and sat on one of the bio-beds, motioning for the others to do the same. 'The story you are about to hear came in a data packet alongside the transmission you just saw. Admiral Delnar didn't want to risk the message being intercepted and decrypted, so he sent it in a tightly coded and compressed data stream.

'Some time ago, Admiral Drayton, then a senior officer in the Intelligence division, became aware that there might be a highly placed Romulan agent in Starfleet Command, possibly in the Commander-in-Chief's office itself. There was little or no evidence, just a series of deleted transmissions and amended data files. But there was enough circumstantial evidence to begin an investigation.'

'A Romulan agent?' asked Riker.

'At the time, it was more logical to blame Romulans than to consider it might be a rogue element in Starfleet,' replied Picard. 'Either way, it became clear to the investigation that what they were dealing with was not an isolated incident. Either Starfleet was almost completely compromised from within, or there was another explanation.

'The most telling evidence came when Drayton took his findings to a secret committee. After presenting the data, he was instructed to leave the matter alone. The information vanished.'

'How long ago was this?' asked Bashir.

'Admiral Drayton presented his evidence almost ten years ago,' said Picard. 'After the data went missing, he knew that he was onto something even bigger than he had imagined. He asked his friends in Intelligence, Delnar and Ballas, to aid him in his investigation, knowing now that he would receive no help from Starfleet through official channels. At the time, I was commanding the _Enterprise_, and it was then we encountered the Borg invasion of Sector 001.' Picard's eyes grew troubled, though his voice remained calm. 'When I was assimilated.'

'Section 31 took the opportunity to bury itself,' said Bashir, his tone questioning.

'Not quite,' said Picard. 'The Borg threat awoke Section 31 to the possibilities of further attacks by powers from outside the quadrant. Before then, they had adopted a very shadowy approach to their remit, ensuring that they were never noticed. They tried to alter Starfleet and Federation policy more by exerting behind the scenes influence. After the Borg attack, they moved into the open a little more, placing operatives on ships throughout Starfleet, rather than concentrating on the core systems of the Federation.

'It was the discovery of the wormhole that brought them fully out into the light. Like the Obsidian Order and the Tal Shiar, Section 31 immediately realised what a danger this new power might be. After the botched attack on the Founder's homeworld, they knew that there would be a reprisal.'

Picard paused and looked at Bashir. 'Admiral Drayton was keeping close tabs on the few leads he had developed over this time. One such lead seemed to come to life about four years ago. Starfleet's biotechnology division suddenly became the focus of much Section 31 activity.'

'The biological plague that infected the Founders,' said Bashir.

Picard nodded. 'Correct. It became obvious that some sort of weapon was being prepared to throw at the Dominion, whether or not war came about. The assumption was that it would. This was the reason Sloan was despatched to _DS9_, Doctor. The reason he attempted to recruit you. With your knowledge of the Founders basic structure, the virus could have been even more dangerous than it was.'

'As it was, the Founders were nearly exterminated,' commented Kira.

'Indeed,' replied Picard. 'It was obvious that Section 31 was starting to become dangerously rogue. As Drayton and then Delnar followed the leads further, it became disturbingly clear how much influence Section 31 had gained in Starfleet Command. By the time Drayton became C-in-C, he had become convinced that there was an operative keeping a close watch on the C-in-C.'

Picard motioned towards the data rod he handed to Bashir. 'That transmission was recorded less than an hour ago. Drayton and Delnar have had Commander Stallek under suspicion for some time. Today, he made the slip-up that gave him away. He has been manipulating ship orders, assignments and crew replacements to place Section 31 officers in important positions for nearly five years. And, as a side bonus, he has exposed our target for us.'

'Sir,' said Riker, 'the order has come in. The ships have been recalled to Earth. I believe Captain Gastrovicz is slightly annoyed about it.'

Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'Obviously Admiral Drayton is sending us a message. He doesn't want to spook our target until we are ready. We have the next move – once we have him in our custody, Delnar and Ballas will be able to begin arresting other operatives.'

'What do you want to do?' asked Kira. 'We'll have to move quickly.'

Picard stood up. 'Alert the fleet that they're to begin moving out at 2100 hours.'

'That's two hours before the briefing,' said Riker.

'I know,' replied Picard easily. 'By then, they shouldn't need to be moving out at all.'

'Will they be on our side?' asked Bashir.

'We'll find out,' replied Riker, steely determination in his tone.

'I will deal with them' added Picard. 'After all, it is my responsibility.'

There was a silent pause for a moment, and then Bashir shook his head. 'Who would believe that it would have come to a head so quickly?'

'Section 31 isn't the issue,' said Picard sharply. 'This is a frustrating distraction from the main situation. There's an Aralla city destroyer out there that is marauding towards the Romulans. I want this over and done with so I can finish _my_ task!'

Bashir and Kira stared at Picard, seeing the anger written into his body, suddenly aware of what the man kept so well hidden. Where Sisko had been powerful and physically imposing, Picard was powerful, but it was the utter indomitable force of his will that emphasised his inner strength.

Riker had seen Picard's forceful nature enough times to be unfazed by it, but he recognised what Picard was feeling. 'Don't worry, sir; we will.'

Picard's eyes came back from whatever mental plain he inhabited, seeing for a moment only the black disc of the city destroyer in his mind's eye. Slowly he nodded. 'Yes, we will.'


	13. True Nature

_Chapter XIII_  
  
Picard sat silently in his quarters, staring at the chronometer on the bulkhead. It displayed the time as 1900 hours. Harris had just handed over command of the ship to him, and it felt good to be back in control.  
  
He could feel the pulse of the ship around him, feel her urgency, desperation almost; the desire to break free from her confines and chase headlong, pursuing to the grave those who had hurt her captain.  
  
He sighed. Pushing himself out of the chair, he strode over to the replicator. 'Tea, Earl Grey, hot,' he ordered.  
  
He stared at his reflection in the panelling of the replicator's computer interface, seeing the haunted eyes of someone who had seen too much, suffered too much. Suddenly, a great sense of weariness flooded into his body, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cool surface of the computer, closing his eyes.  
  
But closed eyes presented him with little respite from the truth any longer. Since he had left the wormhole and the Aralla ship, mind intact, he could no longer see the back of his eyelids without seeing the past again.  
  
Flames roared as always, black ships danced in the fire, lashing out with blue energy. They no longer controlled his mind and his sanity, but he could still see their ravages, feel the pain. But his mind was dominated by one thing above all else.  
  
He could name the face now, but even without a broken mind, he could still feel cold, bitter ashes of a ruined life, a destroyed life; a lost chance. The pain was too deep for him to feel anymore. As if it were written into his own genetic structure, he could feel the agonies of her death torturing him endlessly in furies of piercing sorrow.  
  
He opened his eyes, unable to keep them closed. Reaching out with a remarkably steady hand, he picked up the cup and turned.  
  
He walked slowly back to his chair, thinking as he sipped the tea. He could trace his mental breakdown very clearly from the moment it had started. But what he could still not quite comprehend was why.  
  
At that moment, the door bleeped. 'Enter,' said Picard, bringing his mind back to the present.  
  
The door slid open and admitted Riker to the room. 'I'm sorry if I'm intruding, sir?'  
  
'No, of course not,' said Picard lightly.  
  
Riker smiled, noting Picard's slightly downcast demeanour. 'I thought I might speak with you before we began.'  
  
'By all means, Number One,' replied Picard, motioning for his friend to take a seat.  
  
As Riker did so, Picard asked, 'Would you like something to drink?'  
  
Riker shook his head. Silence reigned for a moment, but Picard knew his first officer had something to say. 'What's on your mind, Will?'  
  
Riker half-smiled to himself. 'Never could keep a secret.' He looked Picard straight in the eye. 'I've decided to leave the _Enterprise_.'  
  
Picard kept his face neutral. 'I see.'  
  
Riker plunged on. 'The captain of the USS _Titan_ will be retiring at the end of the year. Starfleet's offered me the post – I've decided to accept it.'  
  
'Why this one over others?' asked Picard. 'I know you were offered a lot of ships after Veridian III.'  
  
'That was too soon after the _Enterprise_,' replied Riker. 'I thought you would need me here.'  
  
'In some realities,' said Picard, slightly more bitingly than he meant.  
  
Riker didn't take offence. 'The _Titan_ is being assigned to long-range exploration in the Gamma Quadrant. We've been granted special permission from the Dominion to do so, as long we don't infringe on their territory.'  
  
Picard nodded thoughtfully. 'Sounds like the sort of mission I would have been eager to go on at your age,' he said quietly. 'The _Enterprise_ will be moved onto border patrols again,' he added regretfully.  
  
'I know,' said Riker. 'That's why the _Titan_ was a perfect opportunity. I wanted to move on. She's not the _Enterprise_ – nothing could ever compare – but there comes a time when you decide to go. Deanna agrees.'  
  
'Deanna -?' Picard smiled, pleased. 'Am I to understand that you've struck up your relationship again?'  
  
Riker nodded, almost shyly. 'Neither of us wants to make the same mistake a second time.'  
  
'Well, good luck to both of you,' said Picard. 'The _Enterprise_ won't feel the same without you. Either of you.'  
  
'Thank you, sir,' replied Riker. 'I just wanted to let you know – it will be a huge wrench to leave.'  
  
'Sometimes, it's the best thing that can happen,' replied Picard, his voice warming. 'I remember leaving the Stargazer's bridge for the last time. A part of me didn't want to beam out, even knowing what was to happen to her.'  
  
He paused, standing next to Riker, the two men looking out at the stars. 'I know it sounds clichéd,' said Picard slowly, 'but I often thought of you as the son I never had, Will.'  
  
Riker smiled, knowing that he felt the same way. 'I guess you'll have to give Data the bad news. "I have no ambition."'  
  
Picard smiled. 'Well, he's going to get some, whether he likes it or not.'  
  
Riker stood. 'The promotion won't happen for a while, sir. Until then, we have a job to do.'  
  
'Very true, Number One,' replied Picard. 'Go to the bridge. Make sure everything is ready.'  
  
'Aye, sir.'  
  
Riker moved to the door. As it slid open, he turned and looked back at Picard, a trace of sadness in his eyes. 'Thank you, Jean-Luc,' he said.  
  
Picard smiled, and inclined his head. Riker left the room, the door closing behind him. The captain turned back to the stars, feeling the end drawing near.

------------------------------------------------

Harris stared in frustration at his viewer. 'What do you mean you've been delayed?'  
  
Captain Hendricks of the USS _Colt_ stared helplessly back at him. 'I'm sorry, sir. Starfleet Command redirected us to Sector 563. Apparently we're to monitor the collapse of a protostar.'  
  
Harris's face darkened in frustrated anger but he knew there was nothing Hendricks could do. 'Very well. I'll see if there's another ship that can take me.'  
  
With a swift stab of his finger, he cut the channel and leaned back in his chair, pondering the situation. The diversion of the _Colt_ did not make sense – a _Nebula_-class starship like that would not be diverted for a science mission of such low priority. That would be the responsibility for one of the numerous science ships assigned to the sector on standby.  
  
No, something else was at work. Admittedly, Starfleet ships were all on stretched duty after the war, but that would not explain something like this. No, something else....  
  
He keyed for another comm channel. 'Harris to Ops.'  
  
Nog's face appeared. 'Yes, captain.'  
  
Harris liked the young Ferengi – he had the makings of a top officer. 'Lieutenant, I need to use one of the station's runabouts.'  
  
'What for, sir?' asked Nog politely.  
  
'None of your business, Lieutenant,' replied Harris coolly. 'Just prep one for launch immediately.'  
  
'I can't, sir,' replied Nog. 'Colonel Kira would need to approve any such launch. We're still at station lockdown after the attack.'  
  
Harris sighed, not having known the station was still under strict security. 'Very well,' he said. 'Please ask the Colonel. But do it quickly.'  
  
'Right away,' replied Nog. 'Ops out.'  
  
Harris stared at the screen again, wondering. If only he could get enough of the pieces together to find out what was happening behind the scenes. He had not wanted to be taken off the assignment to hunt down the alien ship, but it had been deemed necessary. He also knew that Picard was keeping him away from all data regarding the enemy, for reasons unknown.  
  
Harris did not trust Picard. He resented Picard being placed over him in the hierarchy of the taskforce, and believed him a loose cannon. The thought that Picard might be fit to command a starship so soon after a catastrophic breakdown was only fuel to the fire. Starfleet must be the ones who were insane.  
  
A large amount of work was slowly being eroded away, first by Riker's obstinacy, and then by Picard's reappearance. He could not let that continue any longer....

--------------------------------------

'Doctor,' said Data, 'Commander Hedly would be the best person to speak to. She is the security chief of the _Enterprise_. Her expertise –'  
  
'Her expertise is impressive,' interrupted Bashir. 'But you are a systems expert. And anyway, I like working with you.'  
  
Data looked blank. 'Thank you, doctor.'  
  
Bashir turned his attention back to the console in the security office. 'We know Section 31 has access to some form of micro-transporter. That's the only way they could have beamed onto _DS9_ without being detected so often.'  
  
Data nodded. 'That would be consistent. A search of Commander Stent's quarters revealed that he was planning to use the replicator in his quarters to function as a temporary transporter.'  
  
'Risky,' said Bashir.  
  
'Yes,' replied the android. 'However, it would have been successful. He had configured the system to force a high-level ACB through the replicator that could have sustained a transporter pattern without being traced. He would have destroyed the replicator doing it.'  
  
'But that wouldn't have mattered,' replied Bashir. 'It would have got the job done. And that's what we're dealing with, Data. A mentality that places the mission above all else. They would die if it accomplished the mission. We need to get him into a situation where his suicide mechanism would be neutralised, from which he can't beam out, and from which he can't be freed or escape.'  
  
'Do we know how the implants work? How long it might take for him to activate it?'  
  
Bashir nodded. 'Yes. We know that the implant used by Sloan was a neuro- depolarising device, designed to break down all synaptic relays and kill the brain in the shortest time possible. It's not quick, but it is effective. Once the device is activated, which only takes a moment, brain death occurs within a few hours. Not only that, once begun, the process is irreversible. We can't allow him to do that.'  
  
'Agreed,' replied Data. 'It would have been beneficial to inspect Director Sloan's implant. It would have given us a clue as to their operation.'  
  
With a gentle clink of metal, Bashir set a small piece of equipment onto the desk beside Data. 'Ah,' said the android. 'That looks satisfactory.'  
  
'I performed an autopsy on Director Sloan,' said Bashir, mock hurt.  
  
Data connected the little device to the computers, and ran a diagnostic through them. The computer said softly, 'Diagnostic routine will take three minutes to run. Stand by.'  
  
Data focused his gaze on the screen, unaware of Bashir's keen eyes resting on him. 'Commander,' said the doctor after a moment, 'may I ask you a question?'  
  
Data turned to face Bashir. 'By all means.'  
  
'How are you responding to the loss of your emotion chip?'  
  
Data did not answer for a moment, and unblinkingly remained focused on Bashir. 'The loss of the emotion chip provoked a number of strong reactions when I was in possession of it, but since its removal, I have not found that I regret the loss at all.'  
  
'Of course not,' replied Bashir, 'you have no emotions now.'  
  
Data nodded. 'That is correct. I have not been troubled by it, if that is your concern.'  
  
Bashir smiled faintly. 'Data, ever since we first met, I've taken a special interest in you. I've always tried to look at the man in the machine.'  
  
'Thank you, doctor.'  
  
Bashir continued, 'When you finally took the decision to have the chip added to your positronic matrix, I was surprised. I genuinely thought you would not take the risk of the overload of your matrix.'  
  
'I felt the potential benefits outweighed the risks,' replied Data. 'We have discussed this subject over subspace.'  
  
'I know,' said Bashir, 'but there were questions I didn't want to ask you at the time. But now that you have been forced into removing the chip, I wondered what effect it might have had on you. What emotional burden you might have had to bear that did not come from your emotion chip.'  
  
Data frowned slightly, indicating confusion. Bashir continued, 'I know that you cannot feel emotions now, but you have had experience of dealing with them. Have you a mechanical response to the sudden removal of these feelings?'  
  
'I feel... incomplete without them,' ventured Data after a moment's thought. 'When I first gained those feelings, I did not realise how much I might miss them if they were taken away again. Even though I was given the option of deactivating the emotion chip, I found that I was leaving the chip active more often and for longer periods. I enjoyed it.'  
  
The computer bleeped in the moment's silence, and Data turned to it, almost feeling relieved to have left the subject. He looked at the reports. 'The device employs a chemical agent to depolarise the brain's synapses.'  
  
Bashir could see the readouts from where he was. 'Yes, but I can't identify the chemical agent employed.'  
  
'The chemical agent is not an issue for us,' said Data. 'It's positioned here, so close to the brain stem, which means that the dispersal of the chemical has an instantaneous effect. There is no real way of blocking its flow.'  
  
'Which means that we need to stop it triggering,' said Bashir. 'Computer, run a level-four scan of the object, pinpointing any trigger mechanisms for chemical release.'  
  
'Working.'  
  
Bashir attempted to pick up the conversation again. 'Commander, you said that you enjoyed having your emotion chip activated for longer periods? Would you define that as an emotional reaction induced by the chip, or as a mechanical familiarity?'  
  
'Doctor, I would prefer not to continue this conversation,' said Data, his voice quiet.  
  
Bashir frowned as he replied, 'Of course, Commander.' Had he heard tightness in the android's voice?  
  
Data tapped his hand lightly on the desk. 'I resent that people feel they can probe at will into my personal life and history. I am not an object to be studied!'  
  
Data's hand smashed through the desk, his fist pounded through the surface as he shouted the last word of the sentence with anger burning in his voice.  
  
Bashir watched, astounded, as Data raised his hand to eye level, and stared, openly shocked as he realised what had happened. Slowly, the android turned to face Bashir, his face dazed.  
  
Hesitantly, he said, 'I... can feel –'  
  
Abruptly, he lurched to his left, stumbling into a trolley-cart of medical tools, and collapsed to the deck, sending the cart flying.  
  
Bashir jumped to the android's aid, shouting, 'Commander La Forge to the Infirmary!'

-----------------------------------------

Picard had not left the window looking at the stars after Riker had left the room. The tea sat on the table, cold now, untouched.  
  
His body was racked with exhaustion. He could feel the tiredness in his bones, knew that he needed rest. He had hidden it well from his friends, but could not hide from himself.  
  
Since he had been rescued, he had barely slept for a moment. His time had been filled with meetings, briefings, plans. In those rare moments when he was not focused on his duty, he could only think of the hunt he was about to begin.  
  
He had tried to rest, tried to stop thinking and planning long enough to sleep, but when he closed his eyes, he could see only one thing.  
  
He turned away from the stars, and had just reached out for his tea when the door bleeped. 'Come in.'  
  
Troi entered the room. Picard straightened up to look at her. 'What can I do for you, Counsellor?'  
  
The Counsellor smiled at him. 'Captain, I get the distinct feeling that you've been trying to avoid me.'  
  
Picard looked blankly at her. 'Avoiding you?'  
  
Troi nodded. Picard smiled quizzically. 'I didn't realise that I had to see you. And, after my quarters....'  
  
Deanna looked untroubled by her emotional outburst. 'The vast majority of my job is to learn to express and release emotions when necessary. You know that.'  
  
'My emotions are under control,' replied Picard.  
  
'That wasn't my point,' said Troi. 'I wanted to help you in the stress you must be feeling at this moment.'  
  
As soon as she said this, Picard became extremely defensive. 'It's no surprise that I might be under stress,' he said. 'The situation we are in requires me to be at the very heart of what happens.'  
  
'Does it require your presence?' asked Troi gently.  
  
Picard did not react in the way she expected. Instead of affirming his belief that he was required to be present, he instead sat down and looked thoughtful. Troi followed his example, taking a seat across from him so that she could look into his eyes.  
  
After a moment of quiet introspection, Picard shook his head. 'You're right, Counsellor. This issue with Section 31 does not require my presence. But I feel almost obliged to be there when it ends.'  
  
Troi nodded. 'I understand. But I meant your desire to go after the Aralla.'  
  
'Are you suggesting that we should leave them alone?' Picard's voice raised slightly, an edge present that had not been there before.  
  
Troi raised a hand to placate her captain. 'No, sir. I was merely trying to recommend that you leave the job to another. Captain Gastrovicz –'  
  
'Gastrovicz has no experience of the Aralla,' retorted Picard sharply, his voice angry now. 'I do.'  
  
'Riker has that experience,' replied Troi.  
  
Picard didn't respond with another outburst of tightly repressed anger, but remained silent. After a moment, he replied quietly, 'Will has faced the Aralla, that's true. But he has not had the experience.'  
  
Troi raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Picard did not smile. 'The experience of death.'  
  
Troi understood now. 'You mean Rosanna –'  
  
Picard jerked to his feet again, an impulsive movement of frustration and repressed feelings. His voice did not betray his inner turmoil. 'Not only Rosanna,' he said. 'Everyone they destroyed must be avenged.'  
  
'Didn't you do that?'  
  
'They killed millions of people,' Picard said, clutching at his arms reflexively, dwelling on a subject he had been avoiding since his return to sanity. 'I haven't wanted to think about what happened – I know that I needed to grieve and mourn, and I've done that. But what I've tried not to think about what the reason for what happened.'  
  
'Which was?' prompted Troi carefully.  
  
Picard breathed deeply, trying to regain his composure again. He gathered his thoughts around himself, bringing his emotions, now always so close to the surface, into tighter control. 'I have always prided myself on emotional control, Deanna; you know that. Do you know how it feels to have that control stripped away from you?'  
  
'I have had some experience with it, sir,' replied Troi.  
  
Picard did not respond immediately. After a moment, he continued with his line of thought. 'I have been more emotional of late. It has proved difficult to focus on what needs doing.'  
  
'You've hidden it well,' replied Troi.  
  
'Except from you, Counsellor,' said Picard. Troi inclined her head, smiling. 'Then you know what I have been feeling recently.'  
  
'I do,' replied Troi hesitantly. 'I can sense your emotions are in turmoil. You feel guilt, anger, and the sadness you hold in so well makes me want to cry everytime I see you.'  
  
'I am sorry, Counsellor.'  
  
'I can understand and sympathise,' continued Deanna. 'But I cannot help unless you tell me what is at the heart of what you feel.'  
  
'I'm not sure I can tell anyone,' whispered Picard. 'I feel Rosanna's death as if it were yesterday, but I know that it was more than two years ago. I used to tell her everything, shared myself with here like none other before her. It was something to do with our link, I'm sure of that.'  
  
'A full link such as that makes it impossible to be private, Captain,' said Troi. 'You know that.'  
  
Picard nodded. 'I've tried to spend some time going through my memories, Deanna,' he said, turning to face her. 'Mostly those concerned with Rosanna's death. I have come to a conclusion.'  
  
'Which is?'  
  
Picard sighed heavily, his body language suddenly showing the weight of the burden on his shoulders. 'I am personally responsible for the death of more than eighty billion people, including my wife.'  
  
Troi's eyes widened. 'Captain, no!'  
  
Picard nodded. 'I cannot possibly atone for this crime.'  
  
'You cannot hold yourself responsible for these deaths,' pleaded Troi, knowing how such self-destructive tendencies had consumed him so badly. 'The Aralla are the ones who carried out that slaughter –'  
  
'And they shall pay,' said Picard, cutting her off curtly. 'I shall ensure that. Counsellor, I should like to get this tiresome nuisance of Section 31 out of the way immediately. When Starfleet's petty issues are resolved, then I can destroy the Aralla. After that, I don't care any longer. Death can have me.'  
  
He turned away from her shocked face, uncaring, to look at the cold stars again. 'I think I shall welcome it.'  
  
Silence reigned in the room, while Troi fought to comprehend what Picard had just told her. 'Sir,' she finally managed, 'you can't –'  
  
'Remind me again, Counsellor, of exactly what I have left to live for.' He turned to face her, pain in his eyes. 'This isn't the suicidal plea of an insane man. You don't have to rescue me again. You should have known that if I did find out the truth, I would react like this. Rosanna was my life. I don't think any person has ever felt like I felt when I was with her. And when she died, when our link vanished from my mind, I would have killed myself on the spot if I had not had revenge foremost in my mind. Now, I can complete that revenge; and, once the Aralla are gone, then maybe that will be the time to discuss this again.'  
  
Picard's calm voice struck at Troi like a whip; she could scarcely believe that Picard could speak so calmly and clearly when she could sense the whirlpool of distress and anger in his mind. Even her knowledge of his control could not explain the forces he was holding in check at the moment.  
  
'La Forge to Captain Picard.'  
  
Picard seemed to draw his emotions back into himself and regain his poise. 'Picard here.'  
  
'Captain,' said La Forge, and Troi realised how worried he sounded, 'can you come to Engineering immediately?'  
  
'By all means,' replied Picard. 'What's the matter?'  
  
'Something's seriously wrong with Data.'  
  
Picard looked at Troi, worry now evident. 'I'm on my way.'

-------------------------------------

La Forge straightened up from leaning over Data's prostrate body as Troi and Picard entered Engineering. Picard made his way straight to Data's side. 'What's happened?'  
  
La Forge looked deeply concerned. 'Data collapsed in the Infirmary on _DS9_.'  
  
'Collapsed?'  
  
La Forge nodded. 'There's no mechanical failure, and physically, he is in good shape.'  
  
'Do you have any theories?'  
  
La Forge nodded. 'Unfortunately, yes.' He glanced over to the warp core, beside which was stood Dr Bashir. He stepped forward, his own face concerned as he looked at Data.  
  
'Captain, I was interested in Data's perceptions of the loss of his emotion chip,' said Bashir. 'I wanted his perspective on such a big loss.'  
  
'And?'  
  
'He seemed cooperative at first. I didn't think that I pried too much, but he became... angry.' Before Picard could respond, Bashir continued hurriedly, 'I know he's not supposed to be able to feel without the chip, but I'm convinced that was what happened. He definitely lost his temper. You should see the hole he punched in one of my desks in the Infirmary.'  
  
Picard turned his gaze to La Forge. 'Is it possible?'  
  
Geordi shrugged. 'Who knows with Data? So much of his development over the last few years has been into uncharted territory. None of the research data Dr Soong kept on either him or Lore has been able to explain half of the things Data's mind does. And since the emotion chip, the acceleration of change has been staggering.'  
  
'But emotions?' said Troi. 'He isn't capable of them without the chip.'  
  
Geordi motioned towards a wall monitor. Cables snaked from a port just below it to make contact with Data's brain. Displayed on the screen was a series of lines, all jagging up and down in an almost frenetic tableau. 'Sir, I'm deeply concerned by what I'm seeing here. This activity is what you would normally expect to see in Data's mind when he's operating at peak efficiency. When he's deactivated, the activity dies off completely. But here's what he's experiencing now.'  
  
He keyed in a command, and the screen changed to show the lines still busy, but with slowly deteriorating trajectories. Picard frowned. 'What does this mean?'  
  
'It's the same thing we saw in Lal,' replied Geordi. 'Cascade failure, followed by complete degradation of the synaptic pathways.'  
  
'What caused it?'  
  
'I don't know,' replied the engineer. 'I checked his positronic net for signs of this regularly. I was concerned that we might have to deal with this again. But there was no indication that it might happen. None at all.'  
  
'He is deactivated, isn't he?'  
  
'He shut himself down,' said Bashir. 'Medically, it would be classified as a coma. It's possible it might be a protective act, designed to preserve his higher brain functions.'  
  
'I'd tend to agree with that,' added Geordi. 'When Data's deactivated, he's essentially the same as the table he's lying on. This isn't what you'd see when he's completely inert.'  
  
'Can we activate him?'  
  
Geordi glanced at Bashir. 'No,' he said after a moment's pause. 'To do so would probably kill him.'  
  
Picard nodded, frustrated. He turned away from the monitor to stand beside Data and looked sadly at his friend, unable to help the android. He couldn't think of anything to say, something that might help to save Data.  
  
He reached out and touched the android.

----------------------------------------------

_As his fingers rested on the cloth of Data's uniform, Picard felt a chill run through him, as if he had stepped into a pool of cold water. He stepped away from the android and turned to the others.  
  
Geordi, Troi and Bashir all stood, unmoving. At the same moment, Picard realised that all the normal sounds that might be heard on a busy starship were gone. Absolute silence reigned.  
  
All of Engineering was frozen.  
  
Moving as if in a dream, Picard stretched out his hand to them, and as he did so, he looked at his hand – and recoiled in shock.  
  
Golden lines shone from his hand as it approached Troi's face, connecting him to her. Similarly, threads of gold streamed from his hand towards all of the other people in the section.  
  
Picard stepped back, stunned by what he saw. Golden threads filled the air, connecting everyone. More lines passed through bulkheads and decks, through all manner of solid objects, linking everyone together.  
  
The golden lines varied in size and length. Threads the width of a fingernail could stretch for metres, while some were thick ropes, sometimes covering just a few inches. But all of these threads bore a common feature – they all wound around Picard.  
  
Picard looked down at himself. The lines coiled around him tightly, moving with him, connecting him with everything. He could see that was not the case with anyone else. While La Forge was connected to everyone in Engineering, Troi was only linked to a few others. Bashir was not linked to anyone except the senior officers. However, Picard was linked to every other person, and myriad lines spun off into the bulkheads and decks.  
  
He turned again, and suddenly saw a place where there was no gold light. Around Data's body.  
  
No lines connected the android to anyone. His body was a cold barren hole, into which nothing could connect. Picard stared down in helpless anguish at the android, and in despair he reached out his hand.  
  
Immediately, his hand began to glow with golden light, and tendrils grew out of him, reaching for Data. Picard sensed that what might happen would only help, and concentrated, focusing his mind on making that light touch Data.  
  
The thread touched Data._

_-----------------------------------------------------  
_  
'- probably kill him,' said La Forge, as Picard turned away. For a moment, they let the captain stand over the body of his close friend, watching as he reached down to the android.  
  
Suddenly an alarm rang out from the monitor beside them, and Bashir and La Forge gazed, stunned, as Data's brain activity jumped back into life again. 'What the –'  
  
'Captain!' cried Troi.  
  
The counsellor leapt forward, but could not stop Picard's body crashing to the deck. La Forge stood stock still in shock as Bashir hurried to the fallen captain's side, calling for medical assistance, for while the activity thronged around Picard, Data had sat up very slowly and gingerly, moving with a fluid grace that La Forge had never before seen in him.  
  
La Forge hurried to his side, suppressing his concern for the captain for a moment. 'Data, how do you feel?'  
  
Geordi remembered this moment for the rest of his life. Data looked at the engineer, and smiled so naturally and easily that his friend forgot he was an android for a moment, and said, 'I feel fine, thanks, Geordi.'


	14. Sideshow

Chapter XIV 

Picard came around slowly. He blinked open his eyes, wincing slightly from the effect of the lights.

He heard a voice say, 'Wait a moment.' Something splashed into his eyes, and he blinked reflexively.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw Beverly's face smiling at him. 'I assume I'm in Sickbay,' he said.

'You'd be right,' acknowledged Beverly.

Picard levered himself upright gingerly, helped, to his chagrin, by the doctor. He sat on the edge of the biobed, trying not to look as weak as he felt. For a moment, he tried to get his breath back, and then his mind came back to him. He shot a look at Crusher. 'How long?'

'Don't worry; you've only been out half an hour,' she replied. 'I wanted to keep you under for longer, but Will tells me that I can't. I nearly sedated him,' she added with a smile.

Picard nodded – he had an hour left to complete the task. 'I need to see Will and –' He broke off, suddenly remembering something else. 'Data! What's happened?'

Crusher paused. 'I'm not sure. He's recovered from whatever was wrong – Geordi says it happened just as you collapsed. It's better if they explain it.' Her eyes took on an inquisitive look. 'Did you do anything?'

Picard smiled and spread out his hands with a lightness he did not feel. 'What could I do?'

'Hmm,' was all Beverly said. She turned away to replace her hypospray and tricorder in the compartment next to the bed, and Picard allowed a shadow of concern to flit across his face.

'Beverly,' he said as she straightened, 'what happened to me?'

The doctor sighed. 'I haven't the slightest idea. Julian scanned you immediately after you collapsed, and found some hyperstimulation of the neocortex. I gave you a thorough brain scan when you came in here.' She glanced away. 'Jean-Luc, I want you to know that a lot of brain functions are still not understood, even now, but we're making terrific progress –'

Picard reached out, took her hand, and said gently, 'What is it?'

'Your brain was in a massive state of hyperstimulation,' she replied quietly. 'All of your higher brain functions were displaying activity off the scale, and there were parts of your mind frantically alive, parts that are usually dormant inside the human mind. You collapsed because your brain simply could not cope with what was happening to it. It had to shut down.' Beverly looked back at him, and Picard saw tears shining in her eyes. 'Jean-Luc, whatever it was, it was killing you.'

Picard let that wash over him for the moment. He smiled and patted her hand in a reassuring manner. 'Then we'll know what to look out for in future.'

'We don't know what caused it!' she shot back, anger coming because of her emotional distress. 'We don't even know what was happening!'

'It's all right,' said Picard, trying to sooth her fears. 'It won't happen again.'

'How can you say that? You don't even know what happened! We don't know what triggered it and we certainly don't know what it was doing!' Crusher turned away, trying to hide her anger and fear. 'I can't predict what is going to happen in the future – I don't even know what signs to look for.'

'Beverly, I'll come in and have a check-up every hour if you want,' said Picard. 'But I don't want you to tear yourself up over something you have no control over.'

'I know,' she said after a moment's pause. 'I just became a little worried, that's all.'

'More so than you usually would.'

Crusher nodded. 'It's just… everytime we face the Aralla, everytime we have to deal with this threat, it always affects you so personally. You faced them in the alternate universe without us, and then we faced Admiral Nechayev. Both of those involved personal grief to you of the deepest, worst kind. And now something else is happening to you. Maybe it was done to you when the Aralla held you; maybe it's spontaneous, although I've seen no evidence of that over the years.'

She sat beside him. 'Lieutenant Thames died in this sickbay. I don't want to have to bury you as well.'

Picard put on a reassuring smile. 'That won't happen.'

Crusher gave him a small smile. 'I'll hold you to that.'

* * *

Crusher accompanied Picard to Engineering. He still felt weak, but covered it with determination. He had to see Data.

The doors slid open, and he entered the noisy room, dominated by the towering warp core stretching from deck to ceiling. His attention turned immediately to a small group of people clustered in the diagnostic area of the department, a group which opened up as soon as he was spotted.

Three junior engineering technicians made way for him, and he joined Riker, Troi, La Forge, who all stood around Data, seated on a chair, the covering fascias protecting his neural circuitry removed, exposing the intricate silver positronic relays.

To Picard's amazement, Data's face lit up when he saw Picard. 'Captain, how are you?'

Picard raised an eyebrow, noting the amused reactions of the senior officers. 'Very well, thank you, Mr Data.' He turned to Riker. 'What's the situation?'

'Everything's in place,' replied the first officer. Picard nodded. The two men could say no more.

He looked at La Forge, who stood between Data and Troi, an expression almost of wonder on his face. 'An explanation would be appreciated.'

'I'm not sure I have one, sir,' replied La Forge. 'What happened should never have happened. His positronic net has completely reconfigured itself to replace the emotion chip. It's as if the gap in his circuitry that Dr Soong created specifically for the emotion chip was never there.'

Picard gaped at the engineer. 'How is that possible?'

'It's not,' replied Data. 'My positronic net is completely solid state – it can't change itself. Indeed the only race that we have encountered with the technology to do what you suggest has been the Borg.'

'It's not some remnant of whatever it was the Borg Queen did to you?' asked Riker.

Data smiled, amused, bemusing Picard. 'No, sir.'

'Data,' Picard said, marvelling, 'these feelings appear to be completely different to when you had your emotion chip.'

Data nodded. 'Since I installed the emotion chip, I have been aware of many of its limits over time. Although it simulated all of what I wished to experience, it couldn't be considered to be capable of _creating_ such feelings. Even a genius like my father could not create such a device. Like Lore, I could only experience poor facsimiles of the real thing.' He smiled again. 'Although, I didn't know that until now.'

'Captain, there are new pathways and relays in here,' said Geordi. 'Some of it is utterly beyond our current technology.'

'Do you know where any of it came from?'

Both La Forge and Data shook her heads in tandem. Picard hid a smile. 'It was completely spontaneous,' replied La Forge. 'Totally unprompted.'

'When I collapsed in the Infirmary,' added Data, 'I felt that part of my mind was starting to change. As soon as it happened, I knew that I was suffering cascade failure.' His face became sad. 'Like Lal.'

The android paused for a moment, before he shook his head and continued, 'the next thing I remember was becoming active in Engineering. And I could feel.'

'You don't remember anything else?' asked Picard urgently.

Data shook his head. 'I'm afraid not.'

'You're absolutely certain?' pressed Picard, ignoring Beverly's cautioning grip on his shoulder.

'Absolutely,' replied Data resolutely. He looked concerned. 'All you all right, sir?'

Picard calmed himself. 'Of course, Mr Data,' he replied, not daring to look at Troi, who was giving him a measuring stare.

Data looked dubious, but did not ask further. Geordi caught Picard's attention. 'Sir, I'd like to run Data through some tests, and then he should be fit to return to duty.'

Picard nodded. 'Very well, Mr La Forge.'

He stepped aside to allow Geordi to get to work again and looked at Crusher. 'Beverly, I need to speak to Will alone.'

Crusher looked disapproving, but relented with a warning look. Picard drew Riker aside. 'Will, I'm not sure that I'm going to be able to carry this through. You know what to do if I can't carry on.'

Riker nodded. 'Don't worry, sir. You'll be there.'

Picard smiled at his friend and shook his head. 'You never listen when I'm right.'

'First officer's prerogative,' replied Riker with a grin.

* * *

'Do you have your departure orders, Captain?' asked Harris.

Captain Gastrovicz nodded, but he did not look happy. 'Yes, sir,' he replied. 'But I will say –'

'No, you won't,' replied Harris. 'You will proceed back to your former patrol station and await further orders. Understood?'

Gastrovicz nodded, deeply unhappy. 'Yes, sir.'

As the captain's face vanished from his screen, Harris leaned back in his chair. He had relayed Starfleet's orders to the taskforce now, and the only thing he could do was wait. Although a runabout had not been available, there was a transport heading for Earth that left in two days.

He had all but abandoned what was left of his plans – circumstance, bad luck, and poor judgement had robbed him of all that he might have gained by staying the course. Alienating Riker and the _Enterprise_ crew had been his worst mistake – no-one could have realised the intense loyalty they felt for Picard.

What was worse, Picard's return had taken his last card, the command of the taskforce, away from him. Despite technically outranking Picard, everyone in the hierarchy knew that if Picard gave an order, there would be a hell of a backlash if that order were disobeyed. And Harris could not afford that.

No, the only course was to cut his losses and move on. There would always be a next time….

* * *

The ranch was silent in the night. The occasional sound of crickets chirping in the still air was the only thing to disturb the placid silence. Even the advance of 24th century human civilisation had not brought technology to this part of Texas.

Technology approached now. Two shuttles hummed quietly in the night sky, landing lights off, black and deadly against the stars. Onboard, four detachments of Starfleet Security's best officers, all armed to the teeth, ready for whatever they might find.

As they approached, their commander turned away from his position next to the pilot and faced his men. 'Prepare for deployment.' His words were carried across a secure frequency to the other shuttle. 'Remember, we're here for capture, not a kill.'

He trusted his men to do their job well. They were the best.

The shuttles dropped out of the sky silently, hidden phaser banks watching for any signs that they might come under attack. There was no movement in the flat open area surrounding the house.

The shuttles hovered about two metres from the ground, and black silent shapes dropped from open doors in the dark hulls. Taking quick stock of their surroundings, they swarmed forward quickly.

As the shuttles lifted away from the ground to take covering positions, the security teams surrounded the house with polished efficiency. The point team waited until the other groups were in position at various points around the house, and then advanced on the front door.

'We're in position,' reported the leader.

'Go', was the terse reply.

A phaser blast shattered the door from its frame, collapsing it in a shower of dust into the entrance hall. Simultaneously, windows around the house were smashed in and security poured in from all directions.

Hurrying through the house, senses alert for retaliation, the point team stormed towards the main living area, hunting for their target. They made their way from the hall to the largest room, one team splitting off to check the upstairs area.

The leader stopped as he entered the main room, holding up his arm to stop his men from storming past him. 'All teams, this is alpha. We have found the target.' He stepped forward and gazed sadly down at a chair facing the large window.

Looking out at the stars, Joe Kelner had killed himself with a single phaser blast to the temple. His body was slumped in the chair, phaser on the floor beneath a hand cast over the chair arm.

The leader removed his mask, revealing Admiral Ballas' face. His old friend had been an unwitting victim of Section 31. He had known the charges he would face, and had chosen to face death rather than the judgement of his peers.

Suddenly something caught his attention. A small table in the corner housed the computer terminal for the house, and a light was flashing on the small screen. He signalled for the officers to begin searching the house, and stepped past Kelner's body to the computer. He activated the terminal and text began to scroll across the screen.

Ballas smiled. He'd found what they were looking for.

* * *

Picard turned as the communications terminal on his desk bleeped. Keying it on, he reacted with surprise to the sight of Admiral Drayton's face. 'Admiral!'

'I won't beat about the bush,' said Drayton. 'We have the information that you were looking for.'

'And?'

Drayton looked grim. 'You were right all along.'

Picard paused, no feeling of triumph in him. 'I always hoped that I was wrong, Admiral.'

'From the moment we were aware of the problem, I always hoped that this day would come,' replied Drayton. 'I had only one hope, and that was for the innate integrity and honesty of our best officers to shine through. Knowing the answer is better than still being in the dark. Now we can act.'

'I assume I have full authority to proceed?' asked Picard.

Drayton nodded. 'Let's end this now.'

* * *

Captain Harris was jolted awake suddenly by the screech of his communicator. He had retired to his quarters early, having finally been able to get a runabout for a journey to Earth for 0500 hours the next morning.

Glancing quickly at the chronometer, he noted the time: 0015 and frowned. 'Harris here.'

'Captain, the _Enterprise_ has just gone into warp!' said a distorted voice on the other end, and Harris instantly recognised the gravity of the situation. Bringing his slightly blurred vision into focus on the window which showed the stars streaking by.

'Understood,' replied Harris quickly, leaping to his feet. 'I'm coming to the bridge.'

Having hurriedly dressed, Harris strode from his quarters and headed for the turbolift. It took him a few moments to realise that something was wrong.

Apart from himself, the corridor was completely empty.

He paused for a moment before moving on, this time a little slower, more cautiously. It was quickly apparent that the _Enterprise_; or, at least the corridor he was in, was deserted.

Harris reached the turbolift a few moments later, a little unnerved, but still calm as befitted a Starfleet officer. He called the lift, and breathed a small sigh of relief when it appeared.

The lift deposited him on the bridge of the _Enterprise_, and as Harris stepped out, he saw with no surprise, that the bridge also was deserted.

He pondered his options for a moment, and then made his way swiftly to the helm console, intending to bring the _Enterprise_ out of warp. He reached the helm and was just about to program the console when he realised what he had missed.

He turned to find Picard sat in the captain's chair, watching him with interest. 'By all means, carry on.'

Harris stared at the other man for a moment. 'What is the meaning of all this?'

'All what?'

'Don't play games with me, Picard,' said Harris dangerously. 'The ship is empty –'

'Oh, I wouldn't say that,' interrupted Picard, waving casually at the forward turbolift doors.

They hissed open, revealing Riker, Hedly and four security guards, all carrying weapons. Harris didn't need to look to see that more security guards had poured from the aft turbolifts.

Harris turned back to Picard who had stood and moved forward, Riker joining him. 'Am I to assume that I am under arrest?'

'Indeed,' replied Picard. 'For attempted genocide, murder, and treason.'

Harris nodded, suddenly very calm and controlled. To Riker, it almost looked as if he was back in control of the situation. 'These are serious charges to bring against a Starfleet officer, Captain Picard. On what grounds?'

'That you are the Director of Section 31,' said Picard. 'That you personally authorised the creation of a genetic plague which would have exterminated the entire changeling race. That you have ordered the killings of hundreds of innocent people from races across the galaxy to prevent your secrets being discovered, or to further your aims.'

Harris' expression didn't change. 'Oh, I think you missed the best part of that, Picard. You missed the part about the hundreds of wars we stopped at the last moment, the number of conspiracies we ended. The secret battles we fought because Starfleet was too slow and weak to react to these threats. None of my people have been lauded in the history books like you and your crew, Picard, but we have served Starfleet and the Federation better. We will not be stopped by you, and not by anyone else.'

His voice grew stronger and more forceful as he spoke and even Picard found himself impressed by the conviction in Harris' voice. 'We are not here to decide the moral rectitude of your organisation,' replied Picard. 'Whatever the mitigating facts, the blood on your hands is not so easily washed away as you seem to think.'

Harris smiled at Picard's reply. 'You know, Captain, I was disappointed when I first met you. I would have thought that someone who had seen the things you've seen would have removed some of the moralising gibberish from your mind. It's only now, after I've seen what you've become, after the death of your wife, that I truly respect you. You would be better advised hunting the Aralla rather than chasing shadows.'

Picard's face became a mask of cold stone as Harris' voice insinuated its way into his mind. Reacting without thinking, he launched a straight armed punch into Harris' chin, knocking the younger man clean to the floor.

As Picard towered over Harris' body, shaking with suppressed rage, the captain of the _Enterprise_ looked full into his foe's eyes. 'You will never sully the memory of Lieutenant Thames like that again.'

Harris stared, almost dumbstruck, up at Picard, before he reached up to his mouth and felt the blood trickling down. He nodded. 'I never thought you had that in you, Jean-Luc.'

Abruptly Captain Harris smiled and his body was encased in glittering energy. For a moment, it seemed as if he might not succeed but his body gradually faded away. Riker swore and hit his communicator. 'Riker to Data!'

'I'm on it, sir,' replied the android's voice calmly, although Picard noted a hint of stress in his voice. 'He's not broken through the barrier but he managed to reroute the beam to transport him somewhere else within the simulation.'

'He's still in the holodeck?' asked Picard, his demeanour becoming calm again.

'Yes, sir. But I have no idea where.'

'Deactivate the simulation –' began Riker.

'No, Will,' interjected Picard. 'If we end the program, he might be able to get out of the suppression field and use his suicide implant. We need him alive.'

Riker nodded his understanding and hefted his phaser rifle. He looked at Hedly. 'Let's head out.'

'Seal off the holodeck,' ordered Picard. 'We need to hunt him down in here.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Data.

* * *

Riker stepped cautiously out of the turbolift into deck 8, rifle at the ready. He knew that Hedly and her squad had taken another lift and would be appearing on the other side of the deck.

Sure enough, his commbadge bleeped and Hedly's voice came over. 'We're in position.'

'Understood,' replied Riker. 'Begin search pattern.'

The security teams had been through this procedure many times before on the decks above, working their way down through the holographic _Enterprise_ and Riker didn't need to issue any orders to them. The team immediately split up and Riker sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. He tapped his communicator. 'Riker to Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'Captain, we're going to need some more people down here. He's going to give us the slip before long and I haven't got enough officers to keep up.'

'Understood. I'm on my way with reinforcements,' replied Picard.

Riker nodded to himself, contemplating his next move when he caught a glimpse of movement. Without even thinking, he threw himself to the deck as a phaser blast ripped a hole in the bulkhead above his head.

Belatedly, still recovering himself, he realised that the movement had been the snout of a phaser rifle, and although he couldn't hear any sound of running feet, he knew that it had been Harris.

Getting to his feet, he started off in pursuit, not noticing in his haste, that his commbadge had become detached from his uniform.

Hurtling around the corner, he spotted a shadow flitting across the corridor. Not even thinking about levelling his rifle at an illusory target, Riker picked up his pace, rounding another bend in the corridor, and coming upon a groaning body in the middle of the corridor.

He stopped, surprised, and cautiously advanced. A moment later, he realised that it was not Harris.

Lieutenant Curtis sported a black burn mark on his lower arm, and the agony in his eyes when he looked up at Riker was evident. The first officer knelt beside the security officer and said, 'What happened?'

'Commander Hedly ordered her team to split up in order to search quicker. I ran into Captain Harris down here, sir. He caught me by surprise and managed to snatch my rifle. He shot me and then ran on. I didn't see which way.'

Riker helped Curtis sit up. 'Can you help me track him?'

Curtis nodded, forcing his face to become calmer. 'Aye, sir.'

Riker smiled. 'Good man. Come on.'

The two men got to their feet, and Riker handed Curtis his phaser rifle, drawing a hand phaser from his belt.

As Curtis cradled the weapon in his arm, Riker started off down the corridor again, slowly.

* * *

Picard stepped out of the turbolift almost directly into Hedly's path. As the doors closed behind him, he stopped her in her tracks and without preamble said, 'Situation?'

'We've lost track of Commander Riker and Lieutenant Curtis,' replied Hedly immediately. 'I can't get in touch with either of them and I've had reports of phaser fire in corridor twelve.'

'We detected the same thing,' replied Picard, as behind him the turbolift became active again as the doors slid open. 'So I decided to bring some reinforcements along.'

He stepped aside as Worf strode through the double doors, followed by a small knot of Klingon warriors. Hedly smiled in relieved surprise. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Have them link up with your squads,' ordered Picard.

Hedly grabbed one of her lieutenants and gave her swift instructions. As the Klingons headed away, Hedly turned to face Worf and Picard. 'Thank you for all of the help, Ambassador.'

'I could not let such an opportunity pass me by,' replied Worf. 'Section 31 has caused a great deal of problems for anyone who was involved with _Deep Space Nine_ during the war. It will be a chance to exact revenge on them.'

Hedly looked at Picard. 'Actually, sir, I was afraid that you had brought the Romulans into this as well.'

Worf glanced at Picard with mild amusement, who looked slightly chagrined. 'Actually, Commander, that was the other thing….'

At that moment, ten green beams of energy materialised a little way down the corridor, resolving quickly into the figures of a squad of Romulan troops. The shortest of the Romulans turned to face Picard and, saluting smartly, said, 'Subcommander Relesi reporting for duty, Captain Picard.'

Picard nodded formally, as Hedly tried not to look aghast behind him. 'Commander Hedly will give you your deployment orders, Subcommander.'

Relesi looked at Hedly, who returned the calculating gaze with an appraising stare. Picard noted how quickly his security chief had regained her composure. 'That will be satisfactory,' said Relesi after a moment. She added, not looking away from Hedly, 'I look forward to working with you, Commander.'

'Carry on,' said Picard, hiding a smile.

He and Worf watched as the column of Romulans marched away down the corridor, following Relesi and Hedly. 'I hope your Klingons can keep themselves out of trouble, Ambassador.'

'I have impressed on them the importance of this task, Captain,' replied Worf, 'and the fact that the Romulans were prepared to fight by our side during the war has helped my people set aside their hatred.'

Picard opened his mouth to reply when his communicator bleeped. 'Picard here.'

'Captain,' said Data's voice urgently, 'We've detected more phaser fire on deck ten!'

'On our way,' replied Picard. 'Have Commander Hedly meet us there!'

* * *

Riker had an awareness in his mind of the location of the search teams on deck eight, and he was making sure that, for the moment, he steered clear of them in order to be able to exploit the same gaps that Harris would be trying to exploit. Harris, as a long service starship captain, and also erstwhile commander of the _Enterprise_, would be fully aware of the search plans and drills of the security forces now hunting him.

Riker paused at an intersection, keeping his senses alert for sounds. When none came, he peered cautiously around both corners quickly, relaxing slightly when he couldn't see anything. He signalled for Curtis to follow.

There was a quiet clatter from further down the corridor to Riker's right. He tensed, listening for more, but none came. Pausing for another moment, he decided to make his move. He motioned to Curtis to stay put and cover him, before dashing quickly to the opposite bulkhead and sidling quickly along until he reached the bend.

He could now see what had caused the clatter – a Jeffries tube hatch had been opened up and the door had been laid against the bulkhead to the side of the crawlspace. He signalled for Curtis to join him, and as the lieutenant followed him, Riker moved cautiously around the bend.

He knew instantly that he had made a mistake, as rather than a shot coming from the corridor ahead as he had expected, the phaser beam lanced out of the Jeffries tube, striking the bulkhead to Riker's left. He leapt back, cringing inwardly at the thought of how close the phaser beam had come.

Another blast ripped past him, but now Riker was into the cover of the bend in the corridor, and he could safely ignore the firing. He cursed his lack of foresight, and glanced at Curtis. 'He's down that corridor,' Riker said mock-seriously.

Curtis smiled, saying nothing. Riker turned his attention to the corridor again, thinking about his next move.

A voice echoed down the corridor. 'Commander, it's no good. We could carry on chasing each other like this for the rest of the year and we'd never win.'

Riker grinned mirthlessly at the sound of Harris' voice. 'Then why don't you give yourself up, Captain? You know that there's no way off this holodeck.'

'I don't think so, Will,' replied Harris. 'Do you really think I would allow myself to be herded in such an amateurish manner?'

Riker frowned as Harris continued, 'Yes, you may have your security detail chasing me, and you may have me trapped on this rather neat little simulation, but I'm not ever as helpless as I may sometimes appear.'

'Seems pretty helpless to me,' replied Riker.

Harris' voice became amused. 'Maybe, but as I said, it's a very good simulation. Too good, possibly. At the moment, Captain Picard and your security teams; including, I note, a team of Romulans and a team of Klingons, are hunting me on deck ten.'

Riker froze, getting Harris' meaning immediately. Harris continued, 'That's where they think I am, of course, because they're tracking my phaser fire. Whereas I am actually here, on deck eight, orchestrating my escape. And you, Commander, are going to help me.'

'Nice thought, _Ian_,' retorted Riker sardonically, tiring of the verbal game. 'Throw down your weapon and come out. You're still trapped.'

'That's a nice thought, Commander,' replied Harris mockingly, 'However, I have a better one. Why don't you put the rifle down, and Ensign Curtis won't shoot you.'

Riker suddenly felt the cold metal of a phaser rifle brush against the back of his neck and realised that he had been betrayed. 'Sir, I'd appreciate it if you didn't move.'

Riker stayed still as Curtis slid the phaser from his holster. As the security officer stepped back slightly, Riker turned to face him, an expression of cold fury on his face. 'How long?'

Curtis shrugged, looking unperturbed. 'About five years, sir.'

'We fought the Borg together,' said Riker tightly. 'I gave you your first promotion.'

'Don't think I'm not grateful,' replied Curtis, 'but if it's loyalty to Starfleet or loyalty to a higher calling, I know which I've chosen.'

Riker turned away in time to see Harris step out from around the corner. 'He has the sort of loyalty to allow me to fire a phaser beam into his arm from close range so you would believe him, Will,' added the fleet captain. 'As you see, we're always one step ahead.'

Riker stared angrily at Harris. 'I suppose you're going to kill me?'

Harris laughed. 'No, of course not. We will use you to get what we want.' He shrugged. 'Then we'll kill you.'

The amusement faded from his face. 'Now be a good officer and follow me. I have something rather interesting planned for your search teams.'

* * *

Picard stared at the phaser on the deck before him for one livid moment, realising how easily he had been duped. He turned to face Hedly, rage on his face for a moment, before it was wiped out by composed ice. 'Have we still not regained contact with Commander Riker?'

Hedly shook her head, still looking in dismay at the discarded weapon. 'No, sir. I think he must have lost his communicator.'

'Your officer is probably dead,' said Relesi, standing off to one side. Her voice was soft, but without passion. 'We need to rethink our strategy.'

'Flood the holodeck with anesthezine gas,' said Worf. 'With luck, he will not be able to react in time.'

Picard shook his head. 'Dr Bashir has told me that any form of chemical administered automatically activates his suicide implant. We're preventing him from triggering it manually, but we can't stop it functioning fully until it can be removed. And we need to take him alive.'

'Now hear this!' A voice echoed through the holodeck. 'Now hear this!'

The mocking tone in the voice made everyone look up in surprise. Picard's eyes narrowed. 'Harris.'

'Captain Picard,' said the director of Section 31, 'I'm giving you this message so that you know what's happening in your sad little chase. As I was explaining to Commander Riker, my captive audience here, your simulation of the _Enterprise_ is a little too good. Are you aware just how many unguarded computer terminals there are on this ship?'

Picard froze in horror. Before he could react, Harris continued, in that infuriatingly mocking tone, 'Section 31 is not supine before your crusading army of light, captain. I still have loyal followers, even here. Your cult of personality is no match for the loyalty engendered by true servants of the Federation.'

* * *

Riker stared, aghast, at Harris as the renegade stood before the warp core of the illusory _Enterprise_. 'Even the proud _Enterprise_ has a back door into its central computer, Captain. And a holodeck computer is just as real when the simulation is active.' 

Harris turned to Riker and his face and voice became cold as the grave. 'As is the danger.'

Harris stabbed his finger hard onto a control.

* * *

Picard stared in horror as the lights faded through the entire corridor, to be replaced by the dull red glow of the emergency lighting. He hit his badge. 'Picard to Data!' 

'Captain!' shouted the android's voice. 'We've lost power throughout the ship! Geordi estimates thirty seconds until the warp core breaches!'

Picard could barely react to the litany of disaster. In desperation, he shouted, 'All right, Captain, I get the message! Stop this!'

There was no reply.

'_Harris!'

* * *

_

Throughout the _Enterprise_, alert sirens blared screamed out the ship's distress, as the crew was suddenly engulfed by the emergency lights. On the bridge, Troi recoiled as the whiplash of the crew's terror ran through her mind.

In the holographic engineering, Riker gazed at the darkly silhouetted features of Captain Harris, his visage becoming skull-like in the half-dark, even as they listened to Picard's anguished shout come over the speakers. As the first officer watched, Harris smiled chillingly, a death's head smile.

* * *

In that moment, Riker knew that for all their dark deeds, even the Aralla could not be as completely evil as the man before him. It took true fanaticism to become as dark hearted as Ian Harris.

And above all the sudden disorienting terror, there was only the voice of the computer, counting down in a hauntingly calm voice, 'Twenty-five seconds until warp core breach. Warning….'


	15. Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold

_Chapter XV_

Harris and Riker continued to stare at each other in the darkness of Engineering as the computer counted its way down to the final zero.

'This is sadism!' Riker said.

'Maybe so,' replied Harris, 'but I just think this is my way of making a point.'

'A point?' ground out Riker. 'Killing thousands of innocent people just to make a point?'

Harris sighed theatrically and turned away from Riker. 'I can't believe you would think I would be that callous, Commander.' His finger stabbed the control and halted the countdown as the computer said, 'Ten.'

Harris turned back to Riker. 'I'm very surprised at you.'

He motioned to Curtis, and the last thing Riker knew was the crashing blow of a phaser rifle being slammed viciously against his head.

* * *

There was a long moment of silence before Picard realised that the computer had stopped counting down to self-immolation. He and the officers around him all breathed an audible sigh of relief.

For their part, the Romulans remained calm, although a few had some trouble keeping their faces as rigid as their military decorum would proscribe, while the Klingons all looked happier at the thought of avoiding a dishonourable death.

Despite the ending of the countdown, the lighting did not return to it's usual state, and Picard knew that they were all still in danger.

Harris' voice echoed through the corridor again. 'Captain Picard, you now know the power I have over you, your ship and this region of space. The countdown has not been halted, only paused. You are, effectively, ten seconds from death, so I advise you to do exactly as I say. I have no compunction about dying – do you?'

'What are your demands?' replied Picard slowly.

'They are simple demands, Captain. I wish to leave the _Enterprise_, unharmed and unimpeded. Have Colonel Kira continue to prepare the runabout _Rio Grande_ on platform C. I will contact you with further details later. And bear in mind, if you decide to attempt to storm my location, I have Commander Riker hostage here. I will kill him at the first sign of deception.'

Harris' voice suddenly left the corridor's comm system and started speaking from Picard's communicator directly. 'You see, Captain, I have no desire to destroy the _Enterprise_ just to keep my secrets safe. However, I will happily execute Commander Riker if I feel it is necessary. Your only hope of keeping him alive is to do as I say.'

'Very well,' replied Picard quietly. He waited for another moment before it became apparent that Harris would not be responding. He tapped his communicator again. 'Picard to Data.'

'Data here, Captain.'

'Harris has just made his demands.'

'We know, sir,' replied the android. 'The threats were relayed over the PA system throughout the ship. We've informed Colonel Kira of the situation.'

'Have the fleet disperse out of the blast range,' ordered Picard. 'If the warp core breaches we'll lose the _Enterprise_ and _DS9_, but at least we won't lose any other ships.'

'Aye, sir.'

'Can you find out where he is?'

'We already have, sir,' replied Data, sounding a little more confident. 'He's in the engineering section of the holographic _Enterprise_.'

Picard raised an eyebrow. 'Forgive my scepticism, but you couldn't track him when he beamed off the bridge.'

'Yes, sir, but we've detected a number of forcefields being erected around the Engineering section of the simulation. Also, it would be difficult for him to do what he's done outside of the computer hubs.' Data's voice was calm, but held a trace of amusement.

Picard smiled despite himself. 'Capital thinking, Mr Data. Picard out.'

He turned to face Hedly, Worf and Relesi. 'We know where he is. I want all officers to surround the engineering section as completely as we can.'

Hedly immediately tapped her badge, calling security for more officers as Relesi and Worf took their troops in hand, deploying them.

Watching them all moving, full of activity again, reminded Picard of just how useless he felt at this moment.

* * *

Riker opened his eyes slowly. Two dark shapes, silhouetted by a bright blue glow, abruptly resolved themselves into Captain Harris and Lieutenant Curtis, standing beside the warp core.

Riker winced suddenly as a sharp bolt of pain lashed through his skull, sending him dizzy and nauseous for a moment. He slowly reached around to the back of his head, and felt blood on his hand.

'Ah, he's back in the land of the living!' said Harris' voice, and the renegade turned to look at Riker. 'Did we enjoy our little snooze?'

'How long?' grated Riker, remaining as calm as he could.

'A little over an hour,' replied Harris. 'I'm expecting a call any moment now.'

'Why?'

Harris smiled to himself. 'Because you accused me of something I didn't like. I get very angry when people don't treat me with respect. You may have noticed.'

Immediately, Riker's mind flashed back to Harris dismissing Data from the bridge of the _Enterprise_ in the middle of a battle. He looked up at the fleet captain and forced a smile onto his face. 'Some might call that needless capriciousness. Maybe even a touch of megalomania?'

Harris knelt down by Riker's side, his smile still in place and his eyes dark. 'I know what you're trying to do, Commander, and in other circumstances I might find it a laudable objective. However, this is not about me.'

'Isn't it?' Riker struggled to sit more upright from his previously slumped position against the port engineering consoles. He gasped as he did so, becoming acutely more aware of how much pain the blow had caused. Harris watched his struggles dispassionately.

Riker levered himself into position, and looked into Harris' eyes again. 'Isn't it the case that you want to match yourself against the best Starfleet has to offer? Prove that Section 31 is better than the men and women who serve on the front lines; the people who fought in a war that you planned for and wanted to trigger? Isn't that the case?'

As he looked into Harris' eyes, Riker knew he had touched a nerve in the other man's psyche. A flicker of emotion flashed in his eyes, but vanished without trace.

'Shall I tell you what this is all about, Commander?' Harris' voice was low and calm, but also full of suppressed emotion. 'Really all about?'

'Why tell me?'

'I have to tell someone,' replied Harris, slightly surprised by the question. 'If, as you say, I am a megalomaniac, doesn't it make sense for me to divulge my plans to you, allowing you time to escape?'

Riker thought of his head wound. 'I don't think I'm going anywhere at the moment.'

'No, I didn't think so.'

* * *

The plan had been almost idiotically simple at first.

After the firefight against the Dominion negotiation team, Harris had been quietly moved out of the normal chain of command into his fleet captain's position. Unbeknownst to Starfleet, of course, he had angled for that sort of quiet promotion for some time, having needed to be more active in Section 31's Earthbound responsibilities, especially as regarded the prosecution of the war.

After the war's almost unexpected conclusion, Harris felt it was time to get back amongst the stars again. Despite some misgivings amongst Section 31's leadership, it was agreed that the Director was traditionally placed on the front lines, so that they could judge the threats to the Federation from the best vantage point.

So the only question was: which ship?

Starfleet had lost a great deal of ships and personnel during the conflict, but even so, the Admiralty was still too suspicious of Harris' notorious touchiness to allow him so readily into the chain of command again.

So a plan was formulated in the depths of Section 31. In order to win Captain Harris a place in command of a starship again, someone needed to be removed.

Purely by chance, retired Admiral Joseph Kelner had been forcibly roped into another Section 31 op, and Harris knew of the considerable veil of secrecy that had been thrown around the wedding of Captain Picard to a junior officer a few years back.

After some not so gentle persuasion, Kelner was forced to recount the entire incident, ranging from the bomb attack at Starfleet Academy, all the way through to the death of Lieutenant Thames and the mental breakdown of Captain Picard.

While others in Section 31 wanted to use this information to blackmail Picard into stepping down, Harris had more grandiose ideas.

Harris had Kelner retrieve the log file that Picard had recorded shortly after his experiences in the alternate universe and then used Lieutenant Curtis' advantageous position to deposit the file in the _Enterprise's_ computer under the lockout which Commander Hedly had imposed on all files relating to the Aralla.

At the same time, Harris had given orders to their agent in the Romulan high command to have a science vessel investigate areas of the Neutral Zone in which it might be possible to find technology from the first Aralla invasion recorded in Romulan files. Section 31 knew it would need all of the help it could get in the proposed invasion of the Gamma Quadrant, Harris' overwhelmingly ambitious master plan.

Then they had settled down to wait.

* * *

Riker stared up at Harris, anger in his eyes. 'So all of this suffering; all of this pain is your fault? Everything that happened to Captain Picard was your responsibility?'

Harris shrugged almost modestly. 'I can't take all of the credit, Commander. Captain Picard assisted me a great deal. Chance also played a great part.'

'But why? Why was it so important to destroy a great man just to win back your position?'

'It wasn't all about that, Will,' Harris retorted angrily. 'I needed to replace Picard by being greater than him; to have seen him step down quietly would have done me no good. He needed to break down again, allow people to see the weakness engendered by his faults and let me take his place as a stronger leader.

'I had it all planned,' he continued. 'You would be leaving for the USS _Titan_ within the year, I could have easily brought Data around – despite his sad attempt at mimicking feelings, he was still logical enough to follow my orders without question. He would have been an excellent first officer. I could have reshaped the _Enterprise_, and by extension, the Fleet that took the _Enterprise_ as it's prideful symbol, into my image. We would have given Section 31 an access to authority and power it would have never had been able to grasp otherwise.'

* * *

The science expeditions by the Romulans in the Neutral Zone had been running for six months before the _Talkaris_ headed for Kiros under an anthropological mission's cover for it's other mission.

The expedition's geologist, a woman named Mallara, had been a junior agent of the Tal Shiar and fully aware of the covert section of the mission. It had been her job to look for Aralla technology.

They had been a month into the expeditions before they had discovered the Aralla vessel.

At the same time as the Romulan expeditions had begun, Picard had started nosing around for the log from Admiral Kelner. Trying to play for time, and give Picard a chance to avoid what might happen, Kelner tried every delaying tactic he could think of, but faced with Picard's remorseless hunt and the incessant pressure from Harris, Kelner folded.

It had been pure chance once again, almost as if fate itself was taking a direct interest in the events. For the Aralla to destroy the _Talkaris_ and make their escape from Kiros and for Picard to uncover the log and descend into madness again at the same time was a coincidence almost too good to be true.

Harris had been in the right place at the right time.

* * *

As Captain Harris stopped talking, Riker felt only disgust at the way in which everyone connected to Captain Picard, even by the tiniest threads, had been manipulated by Captain Harris and Section 31.

Harris watched as Riker digested and reacted to the information that had been given to him. After a moment, Riker said, 'I am impressed by the sheer scale of your manipulations. What went wrong?'

'What Lady Luck giveth,' replied Harris, 'she often taketh away. You as a poker player should know that.'

'In short,' said Riker, filling in the pieces himself, 'the Aralla were unpredictable. You could only hope that they would do what you needed them to do.'

Harris made an affirmative gesture, pointing his finger at Riker. 'Exactly. I didn't _want_ the Aralla to make an appearance. But it became clear that we would need to deal with them when they appeared, forcing us to put our other plans to one side. All we could do was try and make whatever happened fall into our plan, and, until they came back out of the wormhole, I was pretty satisfied.'

Riker nodded, understanding the situation at last. 'Once they reappeared, and Captain Picard returned, you knew that your plans were destroyed.'

'I could have still recovered them,' replied Harris.

'Your plan to invade Romulus,' said Riker quietly.

Harris immediately leapt to his feet in stunned disbelief. '_What!_ How can you know about that?'

Riker grinned up at him, delighted to hold all of the cards. 'Your little conversation with Commander Stallek was recorded. At the moment, your friend is telling Starfleet Intelligence all they need to know. Once your testimony is added, Starfleet will be able to uproot Section 31 for good.'

Harris stared at Riker for a moment, as if willing his story to turn itself to lies by force of willpower alone. Then he whirled, tapping a control on the console beside him. Riker's heart leapt into his mouth, thinking that Harris had restarted the warp core breach, but he relaxed a moment later, hearing Harris say, 'Harris to Picard. You've had long enough, Captain!'

* * *

Picard winced as he heard Harris' voice blaze out over the speakers. 'This is Captain Picard. We are working as fast as we can.'

'Not fast enough!' retorted Harris, his tone inexplicably furious. Picard supposed Riker had been causing problems; hopefully he had managed them without getting himself killed in the process. 'I don't want to see any other person between my location and the runabout pad on DS9. Anybody comes within sight, I'll destroy the ship. Understood?'

Picard sighed. 'Understood.'

* * *

Harris signed off with a slightly odd expression on his face. He looked at Riker, and the look turned to amusement. 'He doesn't take losing very well, does he?'

When Riker failed to respond, Harris looked at Curtis. 'Get him up, I want him with us when we leave.'

Curtis moved warily to Riker's side and bent down to help him to his feet. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he put his arm under Riker's arms and hoisted him up, Riker hanging almost like a dead weight from him until he was vertical.

In a flash, Riker moved. Surprising Curtis with his strength, he threw off the security guard's arm, and as Curtis staggered back, lashed out with a roundhouse punch that flattened the traitor.

Ignoring the dizziness, even as Harris moved to fire on him, Riker dodged towards the Jeffries tubes. A phaser beam shattered a console to his left, but Riker escaped into the tube.

Curtis groggily pulled himself upright as Harris pointed after Riker. '_Get him!_' he roared.

Curtis stumbled off in pursuit.

* * *

'Sir!' Picard's commbadge blared into life as Data shouted. 'There's been phaser fire near your position!'

'Outside the forcefields?'

'No, inside Engineering!' replied Picard.

'Picard to Troi.'

'Will's still alive,' said Troi immediately, having listened in to the situation. 'But he's in pain.'

'Let me know if anything changes,' replied Picard. 'Commander Hedly, have all units stand by. We may have to attack.'

* * *

The Engineering tubes were larger than most of those that intertwined and joined all of the decks. In these, a tall man would only have to crouch slightly in order to fit comfortably into them, rather than crawl in the smaller spaces away from Engineering.

Curtis dodged into the nearest one, aware that he was in a very precarious position. Levelling his rifle, he listened for any sounds at all.

The corridor was silent. Curtis moved forward.

* * *

Picard tapped the forcefield before him with the muzzle of his phaser, watching as it flashed into life before disappearing back into invisibility. He waited patiently, watching the main door to the Engineering section directly before him.

He tapped his badge. 'Picard to Data.'

'Data here.'

'Data, on my signal, cut all power to the holodeck. We will have to go in and try and incapacitate him the old-fashioned way. Can Geordi be prepared to do what he needs to in order to prevent a warp core breach?'

'Yes, sir,' replied the engineer. 'If he can't control the breach, I should be able to lock it down in a few seconds.'

'Well, that's all we've got,' replied Picard. 'But I trust your judgement, Mr La Forge.'

'Aye, sir,' said the engineer, and Picard could hear the smile in his voice.

* * *

Curtis froze as he saw a shadow flit across the bulkhead facing a corner and moved stealthily forwards. Not prepared to make the same mistake Riker made when the two had been hunting Harris together, he did not wait, but swiftly moved forward, hoping to take Riker by surprise.

He fired a volley of shots as he turned, sending phaser blasts sizzling down the tube. However, Riker was not there.

Curtis nodded, unsurprised. He moved forward again.

As he passed an intersection to his left, Riker leapt out.

Grappling hard, they fought for the rifle in the narrow confines of the tube, slamming into bulkhead and access panel.

As they struggled, Curtis stared hard into Riker's face, smiling calmly at him. 'Give it up, Commander, you haven't got a chance.'

Feeling the exertion and dizziness of his head wound, Riker could only agree inwardly with Curtis. But Riker smiled back at Curtis. 'You know, Curtis, I'm really sorry I gave you that promotion!'

Curtis' face became fearful, as Riker's grin became a wild snarl. He thrust his head forward, head butting Curtis back, forcing his grip from the phaser rifle.

As Curtis stumbled back, Riker twisted the weapon in his grip and fired. The blast caught Curtis full in the chest, blasting him to the deck with a shrill cry.

Riker stood over the body, panting with the exertion, before leaning down and taking the commbadge from Curtis' chest, next to the smoking hole in the body. Riker glared down at the corpse and his thoughts turned to Curtis' family back on Earth. 'At least they'll never know you were a traitor.'

He thumbed the commbadge on. 'Riker to Picard.'

* * *

Picard's face lit up. 'Picard here.'

'Captain, I haven't got long. I'm going to try and bring down the forcefields surrounding Engineering. If I do that, I think Harris will try and set off the breach. I'll keep him occupied for as long as I can, but that won't be very long.'

'Understood,' replied Picard, hearing the utter exhaustion in Riker's voice. 'We'll be ready.'

* * *

Harris was pacing nervously as Riker looked out of the Jeffries tube. He had clearly heard the death cry, and Riker knew he would not have long before Harris became suspicious. He ducked back, thinking over his plan, deciding when to move.

Deciding to move when Harris' back was turned, he readied himself, peeking carefully out past the edge of the bulkhead. He waited until Harris turned and then lunged for the nearest console.

Luck was not with him this time.

Harris turned as soon as Riker moved, and despite his surprise, he levelled his rifle at the first officer, forcing Riker to halt. 'Nice try, Will,' Harris said, smiling. 'I assume that Lieutenant Curtis will not be joining us.'

'You'll probably be joining him in hell,' replied Riker, but tiredness weighed heavy in his voice. His head was throbbing more and more, and he could clearly feel blood trickling down towards his neck. 'Just surrender.'

'I'm afraid not,' replied Harris, mock sorrow in his voice. 'I have a pressing appointment on Earth.'

'You damn people,' said Riker, too tired to care about witty repartee. 'Why are you so fanatical that you're prepared to destroy not only this ship but _Deep Space Nine_ as well, or to start a war just to gain a brief strategic advantage?'

'You're right,' replied Harris, 'we are zealous. Because we care about the Federation. You think I'm scared of death? Of course, but what you're not comprehending is that I'm already dead.'

Riker frowned. 'What?'

'Do you honestly think that I would be allowed to continue in my position now I've been found out? Section 31 does not make mistakes like that.' Harris looked pityingly at Riker. 'Once I return to Earth, I will be debriefed, my mind will be drained of all that I have learnt and then I will be killed. Now that I am recognised, I have no hope.'

Riker suddenly understood and recognised the reason for Harris' calm acceptance of discovery. Not only that, but he also saw why Harris could consider killing so many people so casually – he was a dead man walking.

There was no reasoning with that. Riker lunged hard for the console, diverting all of his energy into reaching one button before he inevitably died.

Harris fired.

* * *

Abruptly, the forcefield flickered and died. Without saying anything, Picard launched himself hard at the Engineering door, dimly aware that all of the officers around him, Romulan, Starfleet and Klingon, had done exactly the same, all around Engineering.

Five long strides separated him and the main entrance.

* * *

Harris turned from Riker's unmoving body, knowing the end was upon him.

He looked over his life, his plans and his simple bad luck that had brought him to this point – the point of no return. No regrets, he thought calmly. None at all.

He turned for the console that held the self-destruct button and levelled his phaser rifle, unseeing, at the nearest door.

* * *

Picard and Worf burst through the entrance, their weapons up and poised.

The first sizzling beam ripped past Picard, so close as to singe his skin, lashing into an officer behind him, who fell with no sound.

In a brief horrified moment, he saw all that had happened.

Riker's body slumped on the deck.

Harris, silhouetted by the eerie blue glow of the holographic warp core, turning to fire another shot, his back to a nondescript console, but one that Picard knew instinctively would hold the control for the destruction of the _Enterprise_.

In that moment of perfect clarity, Picard knew that he would have to kill Harris to save the _Enterprise_. He hoisted the rifle into position, everything moving in slow motion around him.

In that moment, he saw, behind Harris, the tall figure of Riker suddenly rise up from the deck, almost like a demon of hell, silhouetted by the dark red of the plasma manifolds.

A volley of phaser lashed towards the pair, all of it missing in the haste of the security teams to fire. Harris turned to the console, obviously intending to trigger the warp core, ignoring the near misses with almost nonchalant ease, to see Riker's figure towering over him, rifle in hand – but not positioned to fire.

Slowly, from Picard's perception, the rifle descended, as Harris raised his arms to defend himself.

Riker swung his rifle hard down onto Harris' head, watching the fleet captain's face change from horror to an almost fatalistic acceptance. Smashing past his arms and the rifle flung up to defend him, the rifle crashed into his skull, sending Harris sprawling to the deck, his arm no more than inches from the control that would have obliterated them all.

Riker stood over Harris' body, gasping for breath, and turned his weary gaze onto Picard. He smiled gently, carefully, and said, 'He's all yours now, sir.'

Slowly, he twisted and toppled to the deck like a mighty oak in the forest, having defied all previous attempts to fell it, giving up the fight at the last.

Picard hammered his badge, as Hedly called for Geordi to come and undo what Harris had done. 'Picard to Crusher! Medical emergency in holodeck one!'

As Crusher acknowledged, Picard knelt beside the two men, feeling their pulses. He breathed a sigh of relief, glancing at Hedly. 'They're both alive.'

Hedly's bright smile of relief triggered his own smile, and before long, both of them were laughing the repressed emotion away.

* * *

Sickbay was crowded, even for one the size of the _Enterprise's_ medical bay. Drs Bashir and Crusher, Captains Picard, Gastrovicz and Solvek and also Colonel Kira all stood near Riker's bed, talking quietly.

A little apart from them was Deanna Troi, holding Riker's hand, trying to hold back tears and only half-succeeding.

'He's lucky to be alive,' said Crusher quietly to Picard. 'That last phaser shot caught him in the arm as he moved. Half a second later, and he would have been dead. As it is, I've had to rebuild a lot of the tissue in his left arm and hand, so he's going to have a numb arm for a few weeks. And that head wound could easily have done the job instead if he had left it for a little longer.'

'I think he'd settle for a numb arm,' replied Picard. 'I owe him so much,' he added with a sigh. 'Without him battling on, we would have lost our lead on Section 31 and quite probably the _Enterprise_ too.'

'Is there something you're not telling me?' asked Crusher.

Picard nodded. 'He and Deanna will be leaving before the end of the year. Will's been offered the captain's chair on the USS _Titan_. He asked me to keep it quiet.'

'Nice job,' responded Crusher sardonically.

'He's waking up,' said Troi suddenly. There was a sudden press to be as close to the bed as possible, but somehow Crusher and Picard managed to get in first, despite being furthest away.

Riker's eyes blinked open slowly, gingerly. At first he merely looked dazed, but as his mind focused on those around him, and their solemn, worried faces, especially Troi's, his own face became concerned. 'Oh, god,' he croaked. 'Who died?'

There was a moment. Then, not being able to help herself, Troi giggled, almost ludicrously. This set Crusher to laughing and brought a smile to everyone else's face, except of course, Captain Solvek's.

'What did I say?'

'Nothing, Will,' replied Picard, stifling a laugh. 'It's okay.'

'How do you feel?' asked Troi.

'You should know,' said Riker weakly. Troi smiled again, more warmly at Riker's flippant tone. 'I have an awful headache,' he added. 'And my arm's a little numb.'

'It's okay,' said Crusher, speaking quickly to allay any major fears. 'I had to do some repair work on your tissue and cell structures in your arm – that last shot from Harris hit you there. It'll be a little while before you get feeling back.'

Riker nodded, but his gaze fell on Picard. 'Where is he?'

'He's in the Infirmary,' Bashir replied. 'In stasis.'

'The implant?'

'Gone.'

Riker relaxed, smiling. 'Got him.'

'If it hadn't been for you,' added Kira, 'he would probably have destroyed the ship and the station.'

Riker smiled more widely. 'No, there was another, even better reason.'

'What could that possibly have been?' asked Solvek.

'He thought Section 31 was superior to Starfleet,' replied Riker after a moment's thought. 'I couldn't possibly let that one go.'

A few minutes later, Crusher shooed them away from the biobed, all except Troi and Picard. Leaving after offering their thanks and congratulations, all but Gastrovicz left quickly. He drew Picard aside slightly. 'Captain, do you know what we will be doing now? Captain Harris relayed orders from Starfleet Command that the taskforce is to withdraw and disband.'

Picard shook his head. 'Those orders were designed to distract Captain Harris and keep him off-balance until we were ready to move. We couldn't have him finding out that Commander Stallek had been neutralised before we were ready.'

Gastrovicz nodded. 'Then what's next?'

'The taskforce will be departing _DS9_ within the day, along with the _Kregh_ and the Romulan taskforce. Commander Ratek has pledged his government's full support to us. We're going after the Aralla city destroyer – to remove it.'

'Very well,' said Gastrovicz. He added, 'I'm glad to be getting underway.'

'As am I,' replied Picard with a smile. 'As am I.'

As Gastrovicz turned and left, Troi stepped away from the biobed. 'I'll see you later, _Imzadi_,' she whispered.

Picard stayed apart until she walked past him and then he caught her arm gently. 'I just wanted to offer you both my congratulations,' he said.

Troi looked surprised until she realised what he was talking about. She blushed slightly. 'Thank you, Captain.'

Picard smiled and gave her a swift light kiss on the cheek. 'I just wanted to let you know before –' He broke off.

'Before what?' asked Troi, her curiosity piqued by his evasiveness.

'Nothing,' said Picard. 'I'll tell you later.'

Troi nodded, unsure, and left.

Picard went to stand by Riker's side. His first officer looked up at him. 'Permission not to stand to attention?'

'The last time you stood at attention anywhere near me was when I first met you,' replied Picard.

'Good point,' replied Riker musingly.

'I'm glad you're okay, Will,' said Picard awkwardly. Expressing his emotions had never been one of Picard's strong suits, but he felt he needed to talk to Will after what had happened. 'I would have hated for you to have died before I could talk to you.'

Riker didn't respond. Picard continued, 'I'm very pleased that you've decided to take the position on the _Titan_. I'm also pleased you've decided to re-establish your relationship with Deanna.'

'As am I,' murmured Riker.

'It's going to be difficult when you're gone,' added Picard. 'This near miss reminds me of how much I value you and your steadfastness. I'm proud that you're my –'

Picard broke off, as he had glanced down and seen that Riker had fallen asleep. A small smile crept over his face and he patted Riker on the shoulder gently. 'I'm glad you fell asleep then,' he whispered. 'I was about to say "son".'

* * *

Picard strode quickly into his quarters. A memory flashed through his head, but he ruthlessly suppressed it. A memory of an unborn child…..

'Computer, set a silent countdown. Relay to my personal comm channel every twenty-four hours, displaying a time in days. Begin from seven days at stardate 53441. Mark.'

'Countdown initiated,' said the computer's voice. 'Seven days.'

Picard nodded to himself, and sat down, unbuttoning his collar. He closed his eyes for a moment. And opened them suddenly, pure shock jolting his body.

For before him stood a woman. Jet black hair cascaded around her face, and eyes so soft and gentle and filled with love and pure joy looked upon him.

She smiled and bathed him in the warm caress of her happiness. 'I have found you again, and at last your mind is ready for us,' she said quietly. 'It has been a long road that you have travelled alone, my love. I know what they have done to you, and it has torn my soul apart to be forced to watch and not to act. Know only this, that I am here always by your side and that you will come through the fire that awaits you.'

Picard stared blindly at her for a moment and then blinked once, to remove the tears stinging his eyes.

She was gone.

Slowly, Picard sat back in his seat, heart racing, trying to rationalise her appearance. Feeling his emotions raging out of check again, he fought them as hard as he could.

* * *

Troi jolted upright from her chair, feeling a whiplash of raw sorrow through her body as if it were her own.

She had only felt that sort of powerful emotion once before….

She made her way quickly to Picard's quarters and knocked on the door. Immediately, it slid aside, revealing Picard stood gazing at the stars, his body rigid, bitter sorrow radiating from every line in his body.

'Is something wrong, Captain?' she asked.

Slowly, Picard turned to face her, showing a face wracked and torn by sorrow and grief. 'I saw her,' he said.

'Who?'

Picard stared at her, tears spilling down his cheeks, not really focusing on Troi. 'Rosanna.'

Troi could only stare back at him, horrified by the possibilities, as Picard wept.


	16. Soaring Towards Destiny

_Chapter XVI_

Riker was able to watch on a small viewscreen as the runabout lifted off from pad C of _Deep Space Nine_. Captain Harris had, belatedly, got his wish to return to Earth on the _Rio Grande_. Unfortunately for Harris, Ambassador Worf and three security guards, one Romulan, one Klingon and one Starfleet officer accompanied his stasis box.

Captain Picard had thought it was fitting.

He turned his attention from the viewer to look at Troi, who sat by his bedside in his quarters, stroking his hand in the vague manner of one who was lost in thought. 'Deanna?'

She didn't reply for a moment, staring into the middle distance. 'Deanna!'

Troi jumped slightly, looking embarrassed, and turned to look at him. 'Yes, Will?'

Riker smiled knowingly but reassuringly at her. After a moment, she got his meaning and smiled back, blushing slightly. 'Still worried about the captain?' he asked.

Deanna nodded. 'I'm still not convinced he's recovered fully yet,' she replied. 'What he said – about seeing – '

She broke off, more than a little shaken by what had happened. Riker forced himself to sit more upright, reaching out to enfold her in his embrace.

She rested in his arms for a moment, before breaking away with an uncomfortable laugh. 'I'm supposed to be caring for you.'

'It's a partnership, _Imzadi_,' replied Riker. 'We work together.'

Troi smiled a sad little smile at him. 'It's still not easy.'

'It never is.'

* * *

Kira and Bashir watched the big screen in the Ops centre of _DS9_ as the _Rio Grande _soared away from the fleet. 'Good riddance,' remarked Bashir as the runabout disappeared from sight. 

'I just wish Captain Sisko had been able to see us finish the job,' said Nog from his position at security. 'It was his idea to keep in contact with Section 31.'

'How did you know that?' asked Kira, turning to look at the Ferengi, a frown on her face. 'You weren't anywhere near the command staff.'

Nog grinned and tapped his ears. Kira returned the smile, and turned back to the big screen.

'Let me have a look at the _Enterprise_,' she said.

Immediately the picture changed to show a sensor image of the _Enterprise_ resting beside one of the docking pylons, surrounded by a cloud of suited workers and repair vehicles, buzzing about with renewed urgency to get the pride of the fleet ready for battle again.

'Seems almost… brighter,' said Bashir reflectively. 'Almost as if getting rid of Captain Harris has made it cleaner.'

Kira glanced at Ezri Dax with a small smile, immediately returned by the younger woman.

'That'll be the new paint job, Doctor,' said Nog bluntly, not at home with metaphor.

'It's okay, Julian,' said Kira, nudging the doctor gently, as his face became a little disgruntled. 'I knew what you meant.'

She turned to look again at the mighty starship, gleaming white in the rays of Bajor's distant sun. 'You're right, anyway,' she continued. 'It is brighter and cleaner. All the better for the task ahead.'

* * *

Picard sat on the bridge, staring quietly at the screen, showing a similar view to that displayed in _DS9's_ Ops centre. Not really seeing what was happening, he had come to the bridge because it was the only place where he could feel that he belonged any longer. 

He had not ventured into his ready room in the last few hours, and had been sat silently in his chair, radiating a field of chilliness, one that persuaded just about everyone to steer clear of him unless necessary.

Not that he was being difficult as he sometimes could be – just that the one junior officer who had needed to get an answer from him had been treated with a sort of peremptory indifference.

Now none of his officers had the nerve to interrupt his reverie.

It had been nearly twelve hours since his… vision. He was loath to call it an hallucination, for he knew, as no-one else could, how real and perfect it had been.

It had shaken him to his core. Certainty, so difficult to gain in the last few days until his return to the _Enterprise_, had deserted him once again. Even speaking to both Troi and Crusher could not rid him of the feeling that invisible eyes were focused upon him in a way he never felt before.

He felt sure that if he turned quickly, he would find those dark eyes gazing into his – and that, in itself, was what prevented him from doing so in the hope that he might see his beloved wife again. If he turned to look, he would truly know that he was going irrevocably insane. And this time there would be no going back.

So he stared at the main screen, forcing his will silently onto the vision of his first and last love, his starship, in the hope that she could save him.

But not even the _Enterprise_ could rescue him now.

'Captain?'

Picard jerked into life again, prepared to turn a fierce scowl onto whoever had interrupted his thoughts, despite the fact that deep within him, he would welcome the distraction – and that would be so utterly out of character that he would be damned if he let it happen.

However, the interruption was from Data and Geordi, both looking somewhat cautious. 'Yes, gentlemen?'

La Forge threw a swift glance at Data, one Picard was sure he was not meant to have seen. 'Sir, I can tell you that the _Enterprise_ is now back to full efficiency again and ready to depart.'

Picard smiled. His jaw muscles ached. 'Excellent,' he said. 'Did you find out what Harris did?'

Data nodded. 'He was right that we made the simulation too precise. When he first came aboard, he utilised a "back-door", if you will, into the main computer. I believe that it is something Section 31 has programmed into most, if not all, the main computers in the fleet. Once he had done that, it allowed him to gain access to all ship's functions from any terminal on the ship.'

'How does that link back to the holodeck?'

Geordi took up the tale. 'Our holodecks have been criticised in the past for being too much like the real thing, and this time I have to agree with the detractors. The computer interfaces in the simulation allowed him to hack a path through into the real computer, because we never thought to restrict them. He was able to get in and force a manual triggering of the self-destruct countdown. It took my engineers four hours to track it down.'

'Is this door closed?'

La Forge shook his head. 'We'd need to completely reprogram the main computer from scratch in order to eliminate it, and we don't have the time at the moment. It is something we need to have done before too long, sir,' he added. 'I suggest that we should look to have it done after our immediate mission.'

Picard nodded. 'Very well, Mr La Forge. I leave it in your hands.'

'Aye, sir.'

As Geordi turned and left the bridge, Picard turned a gaze onto Data. 'What is your assessment of the situation?'

Data's answer was as swift as it was complete – he had obviously put some thought into the matter. 'Sir, the Aralla city destroyer is approaching the Romulan Neutral Zone at warp five. It has gone out of it's way to avoid all ships and planets between it and the Neutral Zone.'

'Do we know its destination yet?'

'No,' replied Data. 'I expect it to change course in the next few hours.'

'Why?'

'From our observations, the Aralla are working on some form of short range detection sensor system,' replied the android. 'We noted that they were moving on a course that would ultimately lead them away from the wormhole when they changed course suddenly.'

'I thought the wormhole couldn't be detected at range when it was closed,' said Picard. 'Most ships need navigational beacons and relay beams from DS9 to navigate into it, even at close range.'

'And the Aralla aren't likely to be equipped for a full scientific expedition like most ships in Starfleet,' added Data, his mouth twitching in a quirky smile. Picard couldn't help but smile back at the unaccustomed expression on Data's face. 'We did note that the wormhole began sending out unusual mixtures of tachyon and neutrino particles. I haven't had chance to look at the data yet, but it appears to have been almost a signal to the Aralla. Immediately upon detecting it, they changed course.'

Picard frowned. 'Have you got a record of this pulse?'

Data nodded, and turned to make his way to the aft science consoles, followed by Picard, whereupon the android took a seat and programmed in a few commands. Immediately, a complex waveform appeared on the screen before them, fluctuating wildly. 'This is the full wavelength scan of the wormhole in the last few seconds before it began pulsing.'

Suddenly the scan changed, and the waveform became simpler to read – still scrambled, but not so wildly out of sync. It was obvious to even Picard's untrained eye that there was now a recognisable pattern to it. 'Have you been able to decipher anything about the pattern?'

Data shook his head. 'I haven't had the time I'd have liked to investigate this fully, sir.'

Picard stared at the waveform a little longer. It looked oddly familiar. 'Keep at it, Mr Data. I'd like you to pass on your tactical situation to Commander Hedly and then concentrate on an analysis of this.'

'By all means,' said Data.

Picard turned to the officer standing at tactical. 'Ensign, get me Captain Gastrovicz.'

A few moments later, the face of the other captain appeared on the main screen. 'Gastrovicz here.'

Picard turned to face the screen. 'Captain, I just wanted you to know that the _Enterprise_ is ready for departure. I want to be gone before 2000 hours tonight.'

'Understood,' replied Gastrovicz. 'The fleet is at your command.'

'Excellent,' replied Picard. '_Enterprise_ out.'

* * *

To the Romulan military mindset, patience and waiting were two of the best tricks in the book. The pride a Romulan commander would feel at keeping his Warbird cloaked and hidden until the last moment, only appearing to deliver the swift deathblow that tacticians loved to plan, was considerable. 

Even so, Ratek was bored witless.

Having seen Relesi, flushed with victory, return from the _Enterprise_, Ratek had been delighted at the critical part his troops had played in the hunt. Not only that, one of his officers was allowed to accompany the prisoner back to Earth. The Tal Shiar would be delighted with that, if nothing else.

But after that, nothing. Ratek was uncomfortably aware of the firepower at his disposal, and he knew that he would have to take his fleet back to the Neutral Zone in the next two days, with or without Picard. The knowledge that the Aralla ship meant that his decision was rapidly becoming a more pressing matter.

He hoped he could take the Starfleet taskforce with him. If their previous battle was anything to go by, they would need all the firepower they could get.

'Commander.'

Ratek turned his seat around to look at the communications officer. 'Report.'

'We are receiving a signal from the _Enterprise_. It is Captain Picard.'

Ratek nodded, affecting unconcern for his officer's benefit. 'On screen.' He turned back.

Picard's face appeared on the screen, and the human smiled. 'Commander Ratek, it's nice to be able to speak to you again.'

'Likewise,' said Ratek, keeping his voice neutral.

'I am letting you know that the _Enterprise_ and the taskforce are preparing to depart before 2000 hours this evening.'

Ratek sat up slightly straighter, pleased. 'That is marvellous news, Captain. I am glad to hear that a proud ship will be able to set sail once again. Your destination?'

Picard smiled, slightly nonplussed by the Romulan's reaction. 'The Neutral Zone is our destination, Commander. I intend to hunt the Aralla and put an end to them.'

Ratek could not repress a smile. 'I hope you don't intend on encroaching onto Romulan territory.'

'Not unless we have to,' replied Picard equably. 'That is the reason for my call. I hope that the Romulan fleet, commanded by you, will consent to become part of a joint taskforce, and lend its aid to our quest.'

Ratek paused for a moment, watching Picard's face. Nothing he could see indicated any duplicity, and every promise he had made thus far had been kept. Ratek saw no reason to delay any further. 'Agreed. My fleet would have had to leave soon in any case – keeping a large part of our defence forces away from the borders when a large threat was approaching would have been utterly indefensible.'

'I understand,' replied Picard. 'I will contact you when we are prepared to depart.'

'Very well,' said Ratek. '_G'gerithau_ out.'

As Picard's face disappeared, Ratek turned to face the communications officer. 'All officers and men who are on shore leave are to return to the fleet immediately and prepare for departure. I want full combat readiness within three hours.'

The comms officer inclined his head and turned back to his console.

Ratek slowly rotated his seat back to face the screen, now showing only the slowly rotating station. After a moment, he smiled.

* * *

After finishing up the repair work, the assorted repair crews surrounding the _Enterprise_ started to disperse, slowly at first and then with greater alacrity. At the same time, shuttles and passenger transports began to flow between the ships of the fleet and _DS9_, as all of the officers on shore leave started to head back to their ships. 

Geordi La Forge oversaw the powering up of the warp core from its dormant state, smiling with pride as his engines came to life again.

Slowly, the warp nacelles of the _Enterprise_ started to glow with new life, the light blue of the plasma reaction filling their length, and the Bussard collectors glowing a ruddy red in their start-up routine.

'Looks good down here,' said Geordi's voice through the comm system on the bridge. 'All systems at optimum.'

'Excellent,' replied Picard. '_Enterprise_ to _DS9_.'

Kira's voice replied. 'You're cleared for release of docking clamps, _Enterprise_.'

Huge clangs reverberated around the giant structure of the station's docking pylons, as massive clamps withdrew from their positions locking the _Enterprise_ into place snugly. As they did so, the starship started to drift away from the pylon.

Picard turned his look onto Lieutenant Truper. 'Lieutenant, ahead full thrusters. Bring us into formation with the fleet.'

'Aye, sir.'

The _Enterprise_ pushed itself forwards, slowly at first, but with gathering pace. It turned itself away from the station, thrusting for the freedom of open space. As it did so, it manoeuvred itself into position amongst the other starships of the taskforce, which opened their formation to greet their wounded sister.

Picard smiled, feeling the throb of health through the great ship. Like all starship commanders, he never felt truly comfortable with his ship being becalmed, even when it was ostensibly for it's own good. He relaxed into his seat slightly more. 'Hold position. How far are we from getting our personnel back onboard?'

'We should be back to full staffing levels in one hour,' replied Truper.

'Very good,' replied Picard. 'I'll be in my ready room –'

He broke off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air for a moment. He glanced nervously at the door to his ready room, before continuing, 'Yes, I will be in my ready room.'

He stood up and walked over to the ready room door, leaving the bridge crew a little confused.

* * *

The door hissed open and Picard took a single step in, looking warily around the small office. Nothing surprising happened, so he took a further step in, allowing the door to close behind him. 

Picard was unable to tell why he felt so nervous about entering a space that he had created for himself. The vision had not appeared here, and nothing in this room had triggered his breakdown. Indeed, the ready room had not featured at all since the beginning of the crisis.

He had never before appreciated how subtly effective the walls were at keeping out unwanted noise from his private sanctum. If he listened carefully, he could make out the general noises of the bridge, but if he didn't want to listen, the walls screened out the noise so that the room could be silent.

Now was one of those times.

Picard sat down in his chair behind his desk and looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. He looked at the number of ornaments and antiquities decorating the room, items collected and treasured over many years of starship command and interest in archaeology. He could point to any of the items in the room, and give you a full history of that item almost without thinking or without reference to anything else.

But now he could feel no connection to them. It was as if he was slowly being drained of all that he had once held dear and loved.

The door bleeped and Picard said, 'Come in.'

Troi entered, casting an appraising look over her captain. 'Is everything all right?'

Picard nodded, striving to look comfortable. 'Yes, indeed, Counsellor.'

Troi threw him a look. 'Then why do you look as if you're about to jump out of your skin?'

Picard hesitated, avoiding her look. 'I don't know what you mean, Counsellor,' he said, covering his unease with a hesitant laugh.

Deanna sat down. 'We've had this sort of conversation before, Captain. Don't try and give me any problems now.'

Picard's lip twisted almost petulantly, and Troi hid a smile as he realised what he was doing. 'I'm sorry, Counsellor,' he said at last. 'I've gotten so used to hiding my feelings.'

'Not anymore,' replied Troi.

Picard nodded, acknowledging what she meant. 'Even after what we've all be through, it still doesn't come easily.'

'Does this room make it any easier?'

Picard raised an eyebrow. 'I don't follow you.'

Troi gestured around the room. 'You haven't spent a great deal of time here recently. A lot of the unusual events have occurred in your quarters rather than here. Maybe it's easier and clearer for you in here.'

Picard stared at her, stunned again by Troi's ability to read his moods. 'I have felt that to a certain extent,' he said slowly. 'I know it's irrational, but I feel more secure here – it has no history with what's happened.'

'Even Captain Harris stayed away from it for the most part,' added Troi. 'It's your place – it always has been.'

Picard smiled at her. 'Thank you, Counsellor.'

Troi looked puzzled. 'What for?'

Picard shrugged. 'Being there.'

'Data to Picard.'

'What is it, Mr Data?'

'Sir, I've completed a full analysis of the wormhole pulse. Would you like to come and see the results?'

In reply, Picard stood and made his way back onto the bridge, crossing to the science consoles, followed by Troi, who was intrigued. Data looked up as the pair moved behind him. 'Sir, my scans have revealed that a fundamental change in the nature of the wormhole took place when it began pulsing.'

'Explain.'

Data turned to his console, and keyed in a few commands. Pointing to the screen, detailing the diagram before him with precise movements of his pale fingers, he said, 'This diagram shows the Alpha Quadrant real space interface for the singularity. This is the background level of quantum particles that we detect emanating from the wormhole.'

He keyed another command and the diagram became an animation, running forward and showing how the wormhole spilled subspace debris throughout the sector. 'The levels of tachyons began increasing dramatically at this point,' said Data. 'The neutrino levels followed suit about three microseconds later.'

Picard understood clearly. 'Mr Data, you astound me.'

Data turned, puzzled. 'How so?'

'This is the first time you've produced a report that could be understood by a layman without needing substantial downgrading.'

Troi stifled a laugh at the expression on Data's face, who didn't know whether to take what Picard had said as a compliment or an insult. The android decided to let it lie. Turning back to the screen, he continued, 'The point at which the pulse begins is two full seconds into the accelerated production of subspace particles. The neutrinos and the tachyons interact with the other particles in a way I have never seen before. This unexplained reaction is what causes the pulsing.'

'Is the pulse modulated or rhythmic in any way?' asked Picard.

Data nodded, indicating another reading on the screen. 'I timed the pulse and had the computer create a sound file based on the modulation. I do not recognise the signal.'

'Let me hear it,' said Picard. Data punched up another command and immediately the speakers over the console throbbed with a relaxed sounding beat, almost as if it were played on a bass drum. Picard listened to it for a few minutes, eyes closed, timing the pulse in his mind. It became apparent that it was a repeating signal.

Picard opened his eyes and looked at Data. 'Mr Data, speed up the signal by a factor of ten and change the sound to that of a Starfleet signal beacon.'

Data looked puzzled, but did as he was told. Troi looked at Picard. 'Do you know what it is?'

Picard didn't answer as the pulse began again, much faster, with a mechanical sounding beep in place of the relaxed drum. Picard listened for a few seconds, and then said, 'Another factor of ten, Data.'

The android complied and the beat speeded up again, now almost unrecognisable from the relaxed sound from earlier. Picard listened for a little longer and then nodded. 'Stop it, Data. I know what it is.'

The sound stopped, and Data and Troi both turned questioning gazes onto their captain. 'I know what it is because I came up with it,' said Picard in response. 'That is the signal beacon code for Battlegroup Alpha – Ben Sisko's command during the war.'

'How is that possible?' asked Troi.

Picard smiled to himself. 'It proves something is true – something that I saw while on the Aralla ship. Ben Sisko is still alive; he sent that message. He was attracting the Aralla to the wormhole. It also proves something else – I'm being manipulated; manipulated by powers outside of our reckoning.'

Troi frowned at Picard. 'Captain, how -?'

Picard held up a hand to stop her. 'I'll explain shortly. Data, Deanna, I want to call a full briefing for 1900 hours. Get Will and everyone else ready for it. I have to tell you what's been happening.'

'Understood,' replied Data immediately, seeing Troi's reluctance.

'Where will you be?' asked Troi, not wanting to let the matter go.

'I'm beaming across to _Deep Space Nine_,' said Picard. 'I need to talk to Colonel Kira.'

* * *

Picard stepped into Kira's office without fanfare, catching her in discussion with a Bajoran official. She paused when she saw him, eyeing him with puzzlement. 'Captain Picard, I didn't know you were here.' 

'I ordered Mr Nog to not tell you,' said Picard. 'I want to speak with you now, alone.'

Kira hesitated before nodding. 'Mr Kella, we'll finish our discussion later.'

The Bajoran official had seen the look on Picard's face, and knowing the Starfleet captain's legendary reputation, wisely decided not to make an issue of it. He fled through the doors back into Ops, leaving Kira facing Picard over the desk.

'What was so important that you had to come barging into a private meeting?' asked Kira immediately.

'I see why you've been described as such a great negotiator,' replied Picard levelly. 'I needed to talk to you before we leave – I'm concerned that this message may not have another chance to be delivered.'

Kira regarded him sceptically. 'What's the message?'

Picard looked her right in the eye. 'Ben Sisko is alive.'

Kira stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, before she sat down behind the desk, resting her arms on it's surface. 'Sit down,' she said.

As Picard did so, Kira picked up the baseball from it's podium on the desk and regarded it for a moment. 'I've had people stopping me on the Promenade for the last year to tell me just that. I never believed it. Why should I believe you?'

'I've seen him with my own eyes,' replied Picard. 'He guided me through and out of my madness. He attracted the Aralla to the wormhole deliberately so that he and the Prophets could alter destiny.'

Kira looked into Picard's eyes. 'If I am to come out in favour of the Emissary cult that's developing on Bajor, I would need more proof.'

'That's not why I'm here,' replied Picard, waving a hand dismissively. 'You can make your own decisions as to your beliefs. I'm telling you that I saw Ben Sisko in the wormhole, and that he wanted me to come and tell you that. Whether or not you believe me is up to you.'

Kira nodded slowly, mulling it over in her mind. 'When the Emissary vanished, his wife Kasidy said she'd spoken to him inside the Celestial Temple. I said I believed her at the time – but I didn't truly believe in my heart that she had.' She set the baseball down on the desk again. 'It's difficult, Captain, to separate the truth out from the wishful thinking. I haven't had time to do that yet, and I recognise how hard the Emissary must have found this job and still find the time to embrace Bajoran beliefs and culture in the way he did.'

She sat back in the seat and sighed. 'For his memory, I will make the time and effort to find out if what you say is true. It is the least I can do.'

Picard's mind flashed back momentarily to a memory from another time – Sisko's wedding to Kira and the happiness of their love together and long marriage. He smiled, making Kira frown at him. 'I think,' said the captain, 'that Ben would very much appreciate that.'

'Did you come here just to tell me that?'

'I came here to tell you what I know to be true,' said Picard after a moment's pause. 'It is becoming increasingly clear to me that we ought not to allow chances like these to pass us by. I have left too many unresolved moments behind me – I would prefer that this was not one of them.'

'You sound like you feel you don't have much time left,' commented Kira.

Picard frowned at her, realising that his feelings were indeed crystallising around that point. 'I don't know,' he said slowly. 'Maybe I haven't.'

'Be careful, Captain,' said Kira, a smile edging the corners of her lips, 'The Prophets have something in mind for you and no-one can know what it is until they are thrust into the middle of it.'

Picard leaned forward slightly. 'The Prophets can see into the future, can't they?'

Kira leaned forward as well. 'According to Captain Sisko, the Prophets are outside of linear time. That probably means they can see all of time at any point.'

Picard nodded. That tallied with what Sisko had told him. 'Then if the Prophets told you that all of time might stop within eight days, what would be your response?'

Kira blinked in surprise, a little taken aback by the enormity of the suggestion. 'I would believe them. They are called the Prophets for a good reason, Captain Picard. If they say time will stop in eight days, I would be very, very concerned.'

* * *

'This is going to be our last opportunity to be together like this for a while.' 

Picard's blunt statement elicited a raised eyebrow from Riker, but there was no other reaction.

The senior crew – Hedly, Riker, Troi, Data, La Forge, Crusher and Truper – had gathered in the briefing room, sitting around the long table, facing Picard. 'We are going to be setting off in a few minutes to hunt the Aralla down and put an end to their attacks, by any means necessary. As you probably all know by now, the Romulan fleet will be lending their support to this mission, and we will have full permission to enter the Neutral Zone.'

Picard looked at Hedly. 'A tactical appraisal, please.'

Hedly nodded. 'We have a full complement of photon and quantum torpedoes, having been resupplied by _Deep Space Nine_. We have allowed the Romulans access to our shield improvements against Aralla weaponry, and we've also had a go at implementing the antiproton strategy that Commander La Forge came up with. Although it works in simulation, I cannot guarantee that it will work in battle conditions.'

'Engineering?'

'Pretty much the same situation, sir,' replied La Forge. 'The ship's in good condition and the shields are fine, but if we take a pounding like last time, we might not be able to ride it out so well.'

Picard nodded his understanding. 'The Aralla are not behaving in a fashion consistent with their previous incursions,' he said. 'Apart from a few Lysian colony worlds, and of course, Kiros, they've barely attacked anything. The only consistency in their tactics has been the Neutral Zone. I feel their objective, if any, is there. Mr Data, can you extrapolate their current course, and tell me the nearest planets on that route within the Neutral Zone?'

Data nodded. He entered a few commands onto the padd in front of him, and a holographic display bloomed into life in the centre of the table. On the three dimensional map, a long yellow line indicated the Aralla ship's course into the Neutral Zone, and four planets were highlighted. Data indicated them. 'These four planets are the only planets within one parsec of the Aralla ship's course. It is possible that the Aralla may change their minds once they cross the boundary, but until they do so, we cannot know their plans.'

'The names?' asked Riker.

'Kadria Prime, Launic Seven, Cordac Two and Jerelle.'

Riker frowned. 'Cordac Two? Data, bring that up on the map.'

The android did so, and the holographic map became a two-dimensional map of the sector, complete with gridlines and planetary names. One of the highlighted planets was centred in the map, and Riker cursed. 'That's why it sounds familiar!'

He turned to face Picard. 'Sir, after your…incapacitation –'

Picard sighed, holding a hand up. 'Will, I had a breakdown. We haven't got time for semantics.'

Riker grinned. 'Aye, sir. When you had your breakdown, Starfleet made every effort to hide any evidence of what had happened, as you know. They also altered the charts of the Neutral Zone, and renamed the planet that we had set course for when you were taken into the alternate universe.'

'Cordac Two?' At Riker's nod, Picard frowned, looking worried. 'If they are going anywhere, it's almost certainly going to be there.'

'Sir, what is at Cordac Two?' asked La Forge.

'An interdimensional rift,' replied Picard. 'The very one that permitted the Aralla an entrance to our universe – or, at least, to one of our universes.'

'Do you think they might be trying to reopen it?' asked Crusher.

'I do indeed,' replied Picard, his face and voice growing more intense as he thought through the situation. 'It's the one common thread that's run through the whole of the Aralla strategy. Repeatedly trying to reopen the portal between worlds and bring their forces through. Q showed me enough in the alternate universe, and we know that this was one of Admiral Nechayev's plans. If they can do this, their forces would thrust back into the Aralla War. _We cannot let that happen.'_

There was agreement right around the table, and for a moment, the entire crew thought about the possibility that they might be on the frontline of a new war in less than a week.

That was a sobering thought for anyone.

However, Picard's mind was not on what might happen in a hypothetical war, he was more concerned with what Sisko had prophesised.

_Eight days…._

Now, of course, seven, and counting down slowly.

'Mr Data,' said Picard slowly, as if tasting something that might hold a horrible flavour, 'how long will it take us to intercept the Aralla vessel?'

'At maximum warp, roughly three days,' said the android.

Geordi's eyes widened as he heard that. 'Sir, that was the other thing in my report.'

Picard turned to look at the engineer, who had the good grace to look at least slightly embarrassed. 'Because of the structural stress placed on the engines, first with the Aralla attack, and then with the attempted self-destruct by Captain Harris, the warp nacelle struts have been fundamentally compromised, at least for the long term. Cutting a long story short, I can give you warp six, but nothing better than that, for risk of ripping the nacelles clean off.'

Picard closed his eyes and sighed inwardly, surprised by his chief engineer's forgetfulness. 'Very well, Mr La Forge. How does that affect our intercept ETA?'

Data didn't look at the mortified engineer as he answered. 'About six days, sir. And by that time, the Aralla will have reached the Romulan border.'

Picard kept his eyes closed, feeling the pressure of a vital decision upon him again.

'Can we send the fleet ahead?' he heard Troi ask, almost as if she were far away. 'Try and destroy the city destroyer with the firepower we've got without the _Enterprise_?'

'It's a thought,' said Riker. 'Sir,' he added, turning to look at Picard, 'you could take command of the _Texas_ or the _Delphi_. I don't think either of their commanders would be unhappy to relinquish control to you. I could remain behind with a skeleton staff and try to get the repairs completed in time to join up later.'

Geordi shook his head. 'No, sir; we're going to have to take the _Enterprise_ back to Spacedock at Earth. I think we may have to do a full replacement of at least the starboard nacelle in order to get the ship back up to spec.'

'I'll still do it,' said Riker. 'You need to face them again.'

'Thank you, Will,' replied Picard. He opened his eyes and gazed compassionately at his friends. 'I have already made my decision. Commander Ratek will have to gnash his teeth a little longer. We need the _Enterprise_: _I_ need the _Enterprise_; and I also need all of you with me.

'Will, you were right about one thing – I do need to face the Aralla again. But I also need you all by my side. You are the rock upon which my command is founded, and my faith rests. I cannot – will not – go on alone, my friends. We will face the Aralla together and we will break them on our strength and courage for the last time. Our human qualities led us to victory before – I trust them to do so again.' Picard paused, taking a long moment to look at his friends. 'You and your courage have not failed me in the past – I know that they will bring a triumphant end now, despite all the Aralla may do to destroy us.'

He looked at the faces, all of them radiating the inner pride they felt at his glowing commendation and smiled. 'Let's get underway.'

* * *

Moments later, Picard led the senior staff onto the bridge, all walking with a new spring in their step as they went to their assigned stations. 

Picard waited until they were all ready, and then sat down in his command chair. 'Commander Hedly, give me fleet wide communications please.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Hedly, her voice shining with new confidence.

Riker glanced at Picard, and said, _sotto voce_, 'I hope you have that speech written down somewhere.'

'All from the heart and soul, Number One,' replied Picard, straight-faced, hearing the little barb in Riker's voice. Riker grinned and sat back again.

'You're on, sir,' said Hedly a moment later.

'This is Captain Picard to all ships. Assume cruising formation Alpha, stand by for jump to warp speed. Set course for Cordac Two, in the Neutral Zone.'

There was a crackle of acknowledgement as the various commanders all replied simultaneously to Picard's order. Over the viewscreen, Picard watched as the _Knight_ and the _Delphi_ took the point positions, and the fleet arranged itself so that the _Enterprise_ was in the centre of a complicated diamond formation.

Picard could feel his ship wanting to break free of the confines of orbital space, and his heart joined with the _Enterprise_, striving for the deeps of cold space once more.

He followed his heart.

'All ships, warp six on my mark.'

The _Enterprise_ called out to him.

Picard answered her.

'Engage.'

* * *

The _Enterprise_ and her glorious train fanned out towards the star speckled darkness of space, sweeping regally away from the graceful stationary curves of _Deep Space Nine_, pushing for space. 

As one, they accelerated, leaping beyond light, beyond natural boundaries, soaring away to a place were there were no few physical limits, where only the spirit might fly.

The pattern of fate was complete; the loom turned slowly towards destiny.


	17. A New Future

_Chapter XVII_

'_It's all complete now. There is no stopping what will happen….'_

'_Was there ever any stopping it, once we set_ _the first pebble rolling?'_

'_No. You still think like a human.'_

'_For him, I still am and always will be human enough to love….'_

'_That is the only thing which still drives him on now. That, and desire for vengeance.'_

'_This truth will be hardest to accept; there is no vengeance to be had.'_

'_Do you think he can accept that?'_

'_Yes.'_

'_You seem so certain.'_

'_I learnt that from him.'_

'_Understandable. Only one so forthright in purpose and clear in direction could withstand the dangers of manipulating the fate of universes.'_

'_He is more than simply that, Q. To be such a one as you describe is to be rigid, unbending. Jean-Luc is better, as you well know.'_

'_I know. I knew him first of all, if you would remember. I saw him for what he really is. The Focal Point.'_

* * *

Picard's eyes opened wide as he was jolted from his meditation. Without pause, he slammed a hand on the communicator panel on the desk before him. 'Picard to sickbay.'

'Crusher here.'

'Beverly, get up here now. Something's happened.'

* * *

An hour later, Riker, Crusher and Troi were all crowded into Picard's quarters, much to the captain's annoyance. 'I thought I asked for the doctor,' he complained.

'Well, I thought it might be useful to be able to conduct a psychological check-up as well, Jean-Luc,' replied Crusher calmly, as she carried out her physical check.

Picard eyed the counsellor without rancour, a trace of amusement in his eyes as he turned his gaze to Riker. 'And you, Number One?'

'Oh,' replied Riker off-handedly, as if he had only just realise where he was, 'I came because I'm nosey.'

Troi gave him a good-natured look. 'Very true, Will.'

Riker gave her a hurt look, but Crusher straightened up before he could speak. 'So you say you heard voices?'

Picard turned serious as he looked up at the doctor. 'Yes.'

'Could you recognise them?' asked Troi.

Picard paused before speaking. 'I believe that one of the voices was Q. The other was – strangely familiar.'

'How so?' asked Riker.

'I don't know,' replied Picard, shaking his head in bewilderment.

'You're certain?' asked Troi, fixing him with a solid glare. Crusher and Riker threw surprised glances at the counsellor's fierce tone of voice.

Picard returned her gaze with equanimity. 'I am.'

A moment passed before Crusher broke the silence by saying, 'The only thing that I can find is another bout of neocortical hyperstimulation. That in itself is bad enough without the added information of hearing voices, Jean-Luc. Each night from now on, you are going to wear a cortical monitor while sleeping. If necessary,' she added, forestalling his protest, 'I will have you sedated and taken to sickbay and perform the monitoring myself.'

Picard sighed heavily, but he knew when he was beaten. 'Aye, sir,' he replied flippantly.

'From tonight,' added Crusher. 'I want you to sleep now – dozing in your chair like this not the way.'

Reluctantly, Picard allowed himself to be led over to his bed and settled down by the doctor, who fussed over him like a parent.

As she did so, Riker indicated to Troi that they ought to leave. As they did, Crusher placed a monitor on Picard's brow and watched it become active as the captain sank into sleep.

She left the room a few minutes later to find that Riker and Troi were stood patiently outside the quarters, waiting for her. As she faced her friends, her face fell. 'I can't do anything for him.'

'What's happening to the captain?' asked Riker, his previous amusement completely replaced by a deadly serious expression.

'I've only seen such a high level of neocortical activity in certain alien species, usually very advanced races such as the Zalkonian mutations we ran into years ago, and in some of the Borg implants that interfere with the higher brain functions in humanoids.'

'It's nothing to do with outside interference?' asked Riker. 'The Borg –'

'No, it's not the Borg,' interjected Troi.

'How can you be certain?'

'For one thing, he's not suffering from the emotional turmoil that I usually associate with contact with the Borg.'

'Oh, this is just a different kind of emotional turmoil!' snapped Riker.

'That's about it!' Troi responded equally sharply. 'He's under a great deal of stress and he's responding to it as best he can!'

'My point is that he's experiencing higher brain activity that's completely beyond anything a human mind should be capable of withstanding. I've taken some scans of his neocortical region, but it's my opinion that he's experiencing some form of reordering of the brain's higher functions.'

'Spontaneously?' asked Troi incredulously.

Crusher shook her head. 'It's happened between the time he reported visiting the alternate universe and his return here from the Aralla ship. I took some scans of his brain after he recovered from Lieutenant Thames' death, and I want to compare the readings I took then with what I have now and some older data. I'll know more in the morning.'

'Very well,' replied Riker. 'I want to reconvene tomorrow –' He broke off and glanced at a chronometer - 'Sorry, I mean _today_ at 1500 hours – without the captain. I'd like to bring Data into it as well. I'll ask him to look into Borg neocortical modifications as well as the advanced research into higher brain functions. The rest of us need to sleep. He doesn't.'

With that, he turned on his heel and headed for the bridge. Crusher turned a distraught face to Troi. 'Deanna, I don't know what to do to help him.'

'You'll do your best,' replied Troi reassuringly.

Crusher shook her head vehemently. 'I can't even begin to understand what might be happening to him. He's changing even as we speak.'

'That's true in more than one sense.' Troi fixed Crusher with a concerned look. 'When the captain said he couldn't identify one of the voices, he lied. And I've never known him do that before.'

* * *

It was a feeling common to all starship commanders, human or Romulan. Feeling the ship at warp, actually doing what it was designed to do – travelling amongst the stars – was a feeling of great comfort to any commander.

However, an experienced commander knew his ship better than anyone else – and Commander Ratek could feel the _G'gerithau_ objecting to the indignity of being forced to remain at warp six, along with the rest of the fleet, keeping pace with the _Enterprise_.

He had spoken with Picard at length on the matter over the two days since they had left _DS9_, and Ratek understood Picard's reasoning. The Starfleet captain seemed to be getting more and more tense the closer they got to their objective. Whatever the Aralla had done to him, it had obviously deeply affected him, Ratek mused.

He turned his attention to the two sisters, Relesi and Serisa. He had allowed Serisa to come with them, even though she was not, strictly speaking, Romulan military personnel. However she did have a score to settle with the Aralla, and it would have been deeply dishonourable to have stopped her from at least witnessing the victory of the Romulan fleet.

And the Starfleet taskforce, Ratek inwardly rebuked himself. Still, he added in the privacy of his own head, those thoughts at least could be uttered safely here.

Relesi had set an unscheduled emergency drill up to start in about six minutes, Ratek knew. She had been very intent on making sure the crew was as focused as possible on their appointed tasks when the time came, and there would be few times as critical as this in anyone's future. That much at least had been impressed on him by Picard.

Frankly, Ratek couldn't see it. He knew that the Aralla ship had destroyed Kiros, but whether they had the firepower for a similar strike was unknown. Certainly, no trace of any such superweapon had been deployed against _DS9_ or the fleet, or even Bajor.

Ratek didn't have absolute faith in Picard, despite what had already happened, because he felt that the Starfleet captain was holding back about something. He didn't know what that might be, but he hoped that Picard might be ready to trust him. Ratek had already given the human a lot of his trust. Despite all of Neral's orders, he wasn't sure quite how much further he could be prepared to go.

Not that this was any of his doing; Commander Ibril had already communicated his surprise at the slow speed being kept by the fleet, and even Ratek's firm hand had not been able to prevent rumours of disquiet from the other commanders. If Ibril was saying it openly, the dissatisfaction had already grown to considerable proportions.

It was natural among the military section of Romulan society to be clandestinely plotting amongst each other. While Romulans prided themselves on being more civilised and less barbaric than Klingons, the only real difference from Ratek's perspective was that the Klingons were refreshingly honest about it.

He had enough primal dislike of the Klingons to keep him feeling uncomfortable around them, but he couldn't help but feel that sometimes their way of bringing conflict to a head would be infinitely preferable to the slow burn of Romulan politicking.

Ratek was jolted out of his train of thought for a moment as the alert siren wailed into life. He observed his crew silently as they ran through their preparation for battle, readying the ship for combat. Relesi stood beside his chair, keeping a watchful eye on proceedings.

After less than a minute, they were in position and ready. Relesi nodded and deactivated the siren. She turned to face Ratek. 'Commander, the _G'gerithau_ is ready for battle.'

'Good,' replied Ratek non-committally. 'I leave the ship in your hands, Subcommander.'

Relesi saluted and turned to the crew. For a moment, Ratek thought she had been satisfied with the drill, but she turned to one of the officers at the tactical station. Whatever it was she said, it made the colour drain from his face.

Ratek smiled, secure in the knowledge that his lover was running a tight ship.

The comms officer turned to face Ratek. 'Commander, we are receiving a signal from Romulus. It is Praetor Neral.'

Ratek stood up from his seat, and motioned for Relesi to take over the bridge. 'I shall take it in my quarters,' he said as he left the bridge.

Ratek made his way through the corridors of the _G'gerithau_ at a sedate pace, keeping his emotions calm. There was no especial reason for Neral to signal, unless it was to specifically order him to intercept the Aralla ship before it reached the Neutral Zone. In that instance, he would no option but to obey.

He entered his quarters and activated the screen. Immediately, Neral's face appeared on it. Not accompanied by either Koval or Volnar, Ratek could only assume that Neral had not decided to bring the Continuing Committee into the discussion.

Neral smiled when he saw his old commander. 'Hello, Commander.'

'Praetor,' replied Ratek carefully.

Neral smiled. 'I thought I might update you on what has been happening here. I understand you have had an interesting time near Bajor.'

Ratek nodded mutely, waiting for Neral to make his statement. The Praetor continued, 'As you have been out of contact, you might not be aware of the situation here. The Senate has learned of your mission, and also of your contact with Starfleet. They are, to put it mildly, perturbed.'

'Not surprising,' said Ratek Neral nodded.

'Not surprising at all.' Neral looked at Ratek with a small trace of amusement. 'You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Commander.'

Ratek relaxed a little, understanding Neral's point. 'Yes, sir,' he replied, both of them acknowledging silently that Neral had given the order to cross the border in secret, gambling that Ratek would be able to bring the matter to a quick and resounding conclusion.

'I am aware of the problems you have faced in carrying out this mission, Commander,' Neral continued, 'and you were right to not instigate a firefight inside Federation space, and certainly not near their most heavily armed outpost. However, the Senate has questioned your wisdom in crossing the border, and some are concerned that the fleet you are leading back may not be as peaceful as you think it is.'

'I have gained Captain Picard's trust,' said Ratek. 'Our aid in capturing the renegade Starfleet officer was much appreciated.'

'I remind you that this criticism does not come from me, Commander.'

_In other words_, thought Ratek, _not worth bothering with._ 'Yes, Praetor.'

'My concern is chiefly with the speed that your fleet is heading back to Romulan space,' said Neral, his attitude becoming more serious. 'We project that the enemy ship will have crossed the Neutral Zone border before you can intercept.'

'We believe that its objective is in the Neutral Zone,' said Ratek carefully, resting his hands on the desk before him, leaning slightly closer to the screen. 'Captain Picard has special knowledge of the situation and of the enemy. I believe that my fleet will not be able to defeat these… Aralla on our own.'

Neral raised an eyebrow, surprised by the candid admission. 'Is this your expert military opinion, Commander? Bear in mind that you command the cream of the Navy.'

'It is,' replied Ratek immediately. 'During the battle at _DS9_, we watched as the entire Starfleet taskforce failed to penetrate the enemy shields. This taskforce consists of some of their most powerful ships, some that fought on the frontline during the war.'

'What makes you think they have a better chance now?' asked Neral.

Ratek paused for a moment's thought before he answered. 'Picard. Picard is the difference this time,' he said slowly. 'There is something almost indefinable in him, Praetor, something that tells me he is almost…'

Never a man renowned for his loquacity, Ratek struggled for a word to describe his feeling. 'I would say _kastariay_.'

'_Kastariay_?' echoed Neral, surprised by Ratek's choice of word. The Romulan dialect word had no direct translation, but implied a feeling of imminent change and a single moment of fundamental consequence. 'Are you sure?'

Ratek considered his thoughts on the matter. 'I believe so, sir,' he said at last. 'Being in Picard's presence gives me a sense that we are hurtling towards something utterly critical – something that might change everything. It is difficult to put into words.'

'Thank you for trying, Commander,' replied Neral. 'I will accept your arguments for now. Keep me appraised.'

'Yes, Praetor,' replied Ratek.

Neral's face vanished from the screen and Ratek turned away, thinking over what he had said. For a moment, he felt a cold shiver run through his body as he realised that his feelings could not tell him if the change would be for good or for ill.

* * *

The scanners had picked up the ships as soon as they had entered warp speed.

Dark cold eyes watched as the computer projected their course, noting that it was a perfect trail towards the target. There was no point disguising their objective any longer. A swift thought impulse, and their course was changed.

The eyes glanced towards another panel, one of the few still glowing within the control centre. The colours were now definitely shading into the red, signifying extreme overload. Only the functioning of the warp drive was keeping the energy in check. Once they achieved orbit, there would not be much time left.

Then they could rest.

* * *

The _Enterprise_ had settled into a familiar routine once again. The crew knew little of the enemy they were about to face, and Riker judged that to be for the better. There would be no second chance against the Aralla; Picard had assured him of that.

If anything, the presence of the Romulan ships flying in close formation around the _Enterprise_ was more cause for comment. Although many of the crew had fought alongside the Romulans during the war, they still felt mistrust for their new allies.

Riker found it hard to blame them. Many of the _Enterprise's_ most dangerous adventures had brought them into conflict with the Romulans, and he still could not bring himself to fully trust them. In that regard, Picard's rapport with Commander Ratek was indeed a triumph.

And so it was that Riker found himself staring from the window of his quarters at the Romulans when Troi walked in.

For a moment, she watched him cautiously, and then asked, 'What's wrong?'

Riker jumped slightly, turning to look at her with a surprised expression. 'Sorry, Deanna, I didn't hear you come in.'

Troi smiled at him, and asked her question again. Riker sighed. 'Everything, I suppose. And nothing.'

'Oh,' replied Troi lightly. 'Well, I suppose that if I wanted a meaningless and incomprehensible answer, I should have started a conversation with Guinan.'

Riker smiled, despite himself. 'I'm sorry, Deanna. I've been thinking about what's to come – what we're going to do.'

Troi came closer, put her hand in his. 'Why?'

'It feels like an ending,' replied Riker, sounding distant. Gesturing towards the sleek shape of one of the Warbirds, he continued, 'Looking at those ships, and thinking about what we're going to face –'

Riker hesitated, obviously struggling to articulate his feelings. 'There is a catalogue of strange events occurring on this ship – events which seem to be connected either to the Aralla or to the captain himself. These are things stretching right back to our first detection of the dimensional anomaly in the Neutral Zone which have no rational or ordinary explanation.'

'This ship is all about unexplainable events,' remarked Troi.

'But it's the long list of them – a dimensional anomaly; Captain Picard visits an alternate universe; he falls in love with a junior officer, establishes what appears to be a psychic link with her before she dies, killed by an Aralla parasite.' Riker turned away and paced across the room. 'And all of that's before I start getting into the list of things that have happened since then.'

Riker turned to look at Troi, his face deeply troubled. 'Can't you feel it, Deanna? Can't you feel how we're being enmeshed in something out of sight? It feels like a giant net, drawing us closer to something – and I can't help but feel that it's at the end of this very journey.'

Troi moved to him, enfolded him in her arms. After a moment, he responded to her touch, relaxing and returning the embrace. 'We'll get through, Will. We always have.'

Riker smiled faintly, feeling a surge of love for Troi and her boundless optimism. But it was difficult to override his instinctive feeling of concern. 'Thank you for being here, _Imzadi_,' he whispered into her hair.

'Where else would I be?' Troi's response was equally soft.

* * *

Later in the afternoon shift, Riker and Troi made their way down to sickbay, to find Data and Beverly deep in conversation before a three dimensional map of Captain Picard's brain. As they entered the sickbay, Crusher looked up at the pair, and simply turned away. Before either the first officer or the counsellor could say anything, Crusher simply said, 'Tell them what you told me, Data.'

The android turned to face Riker and Troi, his expression concerned. 'Commander, Counsellor, I spent the night shift doing as you asked. There appears to be nothing in the current literature that addresses Borg neocortical implantation and modification – from our experience, we have only a few scans that we took from Hugh to go on, and those did not linger on higher brain functions except on how to disrupt them.'

Riker nodded. 'So do you think that there is a chance the Borg are influencing Captain Picard?'

'No,' replied Data. 'That is highly unlikely given the unusual brain activity. Commander, there has been little or no change in the captain's neuro-chemistry.'

'_What?_' Troi couldn't restrain herself from bursting out.

'I've compared the scans from each period over and over,' said Crusher, her voice low and upset. 'One from just after we came back from the past, one from after he returned from the Tantalus Facility, and one that I took last night. Aside from the expected chemical changes due to ageing, and those you'd connect with considerable mental trauma, there's been no change between then and now.'

Troi looked absolutely stunned. 'That can't be true. If there was hyperstimulation of the kind we've been seeing, there should be a reflection in the physical structure of his brain.'

Crusher turned to face her friends, her distress clear to see. 'There's nothing that I can do to help him. I can't even begin to understand what might be causing it – and I certainly can't do anything to stop it.'

'What's the worst scenario?' asked Riker.

'He could die,' said Crusher flatly. 'When it happens, the hyperstimulation almost completely overloads his mind, and that will prove to much for him eventually. When, I can't predict, and the episodes are, at the moment, infrequent and without pattern. That might give me time to find out what I can do, but at the moment I have no answers.'

'Bridge to Commander Riker.'

Riker frowned at the sound of Truper's voice as he tapped his commbadge. 'Riker here. Lieutenant, I gave orders not to be disturbed –'

'Yes, sir,' said Truper, 'but there's been a change in the status of the Aralla ship. They've made a significant course change.'

'What's their current course?'

'They're headed directly for Cordac Two.'

Riker's face became grim as he considered what that meant. 'Has Captain Picard been informed?'

'Yes, sir. He's ordered that you and Commander Data meet him on the bridge as soon as possible.'

'On our way,' replied Riker.

* * *

Riker and Data found that Picard had beaten them to the bridge, and Riker took his place by his captain's side as Picard watched the screen with quiet determination. 'I've ordered the fleet to match course with the Aralla ship,' said Picard without preamble.

'Updated ETA is now three days and four hours,' announced Data.

'We've gained a little ground,' said Riker.

'Sir,' said Data, turning to face Picard and Riker, 'I've been recording a slight drop in the speed of the Aralla ship.'

'How slight?' Riker asked.

'Maybe a point of warp speed every twelve hours. Their current speed is now warp five point seven, and I estimate we will gain perhaps two or three hours by the time of intercept.'

'Not enough,' muttered Picard.

Riker was the only one who heard his captain's frustrated words and forbore to comment. Instead, the first officer asked, 'Data, do we have any updated information on the Aralla ship?'

'Only very long-range scans, sir,' replied the android. 'They've not passed close enough to any long-range scanning positions to get more detailed data than we currently have.'

'There's nothing more we can do here, sir.' Riker angled his statement to Picard _sotto voce_.

'What do you suggest we do?' retorted Picard tightly. 'Sit and wait in our quarters?'

Riker tried not to look too taken aback by Picard's sharp tone, but from the look of sudden surprise on the captain's face, he had failed to hide. Casting a quick glance around the rest of the bridge crew, Picard was suddenly aware of how far his words had carried, and the effect his tone had on his loyal staff.

Data's back had stiffened noticeably in his chair, while Truper was ostentatiously seeing to the readouts before him.

With a downcast look, Picard got to his feet and said, 'I'll be in my ready room.' Without a further word, he turned and left the bridge.

Behind him, there was almost a palpable release of tension on the bridge as everyone relaxed, consciously or otherwise. Even Riker felt the muscles in his arm relaxing from where he had clenched his fist.

'What was that about?' asked Truper, turning to face Data.

'Eyes on the board!' Riker called out, forestalling any premature discussion. As Truper whipped his eyes back to his instruments, Riker decided to remain on the bridge for a while longer, making sure that any problems were smoothed over by his presence. Even so, he now was beginning to worry about Picard's fragile state of mind….

* * *

The days passed in much the same fashion. Picard became an almost peripheral figure in the life of the ship, with Riker taking over most of the command duties, reporting to an almost somnolent captain at irregular intervals.

Picard himself had retreated to his quarters for much of the time, appearing on the bridge only to brusquely demand a position update and then vanishing into his ready room for much of the shift.

The crew spoke about it, of course. Riker made sure that he and Deanna spent as much time in Ten-Forward as was possible, trying to gauge the mood of the crew. What they heard bothered them both.

Deanna walked into the sickbay office to find Beverly hard at work on her computer terminal. She barely glanced up as the counsellor entered the room, merely flashing a tired smile before bending her head back towards the screen.

Troi took a seat at the other side of the desk, and watched Crusher work for a few moments before saying, 'You look terrible.'

Crusher laughed, the sound bitter and without humour. 'Thank you, Deanna. I'll know who to call for some quality confidence building next time I'm feeling down.'

Troi smiled gently, sensing the lack of barbs in Crusher's tired voice. 'What are you doing?'

'Still looking into the problem with the captain,' replied Crusher, sighing slightly. She leaned back in the chair and rubbed her eyes. 'I wanted to go over the literature – see if there was anything that a trained doctor could spot that Data missed.'

'And?' prompted Troi.

'Nothing,' said Crusher after a moment's silence. 'There's nothing documented anywhere on any of this. Now I'm going through his historical casenotes to see if there's anything in his past that might give a clue as what is causing this. After that, I'll look at the family history as far back as we've got it.'

Deanna reached out a hand. 'Beverly –'

Crusher carried on over Troi's voice. 'I've already sent back to Starfleet Medical for some help with this. Some of the best neurologists in the Federation will be looking at this data before the day is out.'

Troi regarded her friend with sad eyes, seeing how desperately frustrated and upset the doctor was, hunting feverishly for something to help the man that she refused to admit, least of all to herself, that she loved.

'I think you should go and see him, Beverly,' said Troi after a pause.

Crusher looked at the counsellor quizzically. 'Any particular reason?'

Troi took her friend's hand in hers and fixed her with a long gaze. 'Please. It would be best for both of you.'

* * *

So it was that Beverly found herself stood outside Picard's quarters, her mind racing and wondering why exactly she was there. Troi had not said anything further, but had simply left Beverly with her thoughtful gaze before leaving the office.

For some reason, Beverly was now waiting outside the quarters, her heart leaping almost into her throat with a bizarre sense of anticipation. For reasons unknown, she cast surreptitious looks down the corridor in both directions before taking a deep breath and pressing the call button.

Instead of the pause she had been expecting, Picard replied almost immediately, 'Come in.'

Beverly walked forward as the door opened, stepping across the threshold to find that the room was dimly lit, with the only light coming from a dim lamp in the far corner nearest the windows, which displayed only the unsympathetic glimmer of streaking stars.

She found Picard seated at his desk, reading something on the terminal before him. As she turned, Picard also turned to see her, hurriedly switching off the terminal before she could read it. 'Hello, Beverly,' he said, rising from the seat with a smile, seemingly anxious to distract her attention from what she might have seen. 'What can I do for you?'

Beverly eyed him carefully. 'Deanna seemed to think I should come to see you.'

Picard blinked at her, caught by surprise by her response. 'Oh,' was all he could mister at first. He motioned for Beverly to sit down, and said, 'Would you like a drink?'

Beverly nodded slowly, watching Picard closely. 'Earl Grey, Jean-Luc.'

As Picard went to the replicator, he finally asked, 'Did Deanna say why?'

'Not in so many words,' replied Beverly. 'I got the feeling that she thought you might be lonely.'

Picard laughed gently to himself as he brought the tea to the table, and Beverly joined with his laughter, but she had seen a sudden chink in Picard's solid armour. 'Why would she think that?' he asked. 'She's used to me spending time alone, reading or thinking.'

'Maybe,' replied Beverly as Picard began to pour tea. 'Maybe she's just worried about you on the verge of what is to come.'

'Possibly.' Picard leant back in his chair, holding his cup thoughtfully as he stared into space. 'I'm not sure why she would worry so now, of all times. She's spent a lot of time with me since I returned from the Aralla ship –'

'As a counsellor,' interrupted Beverly. 'Not as a friend. You haven't spent any off-duty time with Will, Deanna or any of the senior staff since you came back.'

'Haven't I?' Picard looked genuinely puzzled. He took a sip of tea. Slowly, he said, 'You're right. I haven't taken any time out from duty with any of you.'

Beverly nodded, not wanting to say anything. As she began to take a sip from her cup, Picard asked casually, 'Have you come to me as a doctor or as a friend?'

Beverly's eyes widened at the sudden question, but she had the presence of mind to swallow the hot tea before saying anything, giving her time to think through her response. She realised that there was only ever one course with this man. That of honesty. 'I'm here because I'm very worried about you, Jean-Luc,' she said firmly, setting down her cup on the table with a faint clink.

'How so?'

'You've withdrawn,' Beverly said, 'gone away from the rest of the crew. Something's happening in your body, but I can't understand it, or try and help and you seem to be resisting what I want to do to help you.'

Her voice had become choked with emotion and she broke off to compose herself. Before she could speak again, Picard asked, 'Should this be such a worry to you?'

The burning glare that Beverly gave Picard silenced him with a jolt, and caused him to jerk upright in his seat. 'I'm worried about you, Jean-Luc, even if you don't seem to care. I've seen you bear the worries of the world upon your shoulders ever since you came back to us from whatever the Aralla did to you when you were captive to them. I've seen some terrible things happen to you over the last few years, and I've stood by patiently as other people have come into your life and taken you further away from us – from _me_.'

Picard leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. 'I don't like the direction this conversation is taking, Beverly. Not one bit.'

'It needs to be said, now!' retorted Beverly angrily, her emotions no longer in check. 'I told you what I found from your scans when you collapsed in Engineering. Since then, your condition's getting worse, and there's nothing I can do. You'll be dead soon, and then I won't be able to tell you any of this!'

She turned her face, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Picard, wisely, said nothing, merely looking surprised at Beverly's vehemence. After a moment, the doctor continued, 'Do you know how it feels to see others come into a relationship?'

'We're not in a –'

'Yes, we are!' Beverly's voice lashed out. 'Just because we don't share each other's bed doesn't mean that we can't still care for each other. We admitted our feelings to one another years ago, Jean-Luc – you can't tell me you threw all that away so easily!'

'_Easy?_' yelled Picard, his own temper now stretched to breaking point. 'It took me years to get over your death, Beverly! I killed you to save the ship, and it was only Rosanna that stopped me from killing myself immediately afterwards! For years, even after I married her, I still grieved for you, and for what I had done to you.'

His voice became lower, and he leaned closer to her. 'You can't imagine what I felt when I saw you alive for the first time after I came back from the alternate universe. Even knowing what I had given up, it was still one of the greatest feelings of my life to see you alive again.'

Beverly had listened to all of what he said, her face almost stony. When Picard finished speaking, she said, 'I meant Anij.'

Picard dropped back into his seat, a look of shock crossing his face. Beverly continued, 'I went to your wedding, Jean-Luc, and I saw what Rosanna meant to you. I understand that you lived a marriage of nearly forty years and that is not easily cast aside. I could even bring myself to believe that you and she were a better prospect than you and I, but it still hurt. I said as much to Deanna, but I never got any chance to talk to you about how I felt. But this conversation isn't about her. It's about Anij. Or had you forgotten about her?'

Picard looked almost lost. 'I'd tried to put her out of my mind,' he replied slowly after a pause that seemed almost an eternity. 'My feelings for Anij are born of another life – one that was shorn of Rosanna.'

'But not your feelings for me?' responded Beverly acidly. 'Our feelings for each other come from years and years ago – before Rosanna, before Anij, before the Aralla. I had to get over Jack's death to come to realise I loved you, and it wasn't until I was able to let Wesley leave that I felt that I could express what I felt to you. And I needed you to tell me first. It was pure chance that either of us could express what we felt – and we've never been the same way since. You used to be able to talk to me as a friend, Jean-Luc. Do you remember when we used to share breakfast?'

Picard nodded, looking almost shamefaced. 'It's been a long time.'

'We haven't taken breakfast together since the _Enterprise-D_ was destroyed,' said Beverly. 'It was almost as if you took the opportunity of a new ship to try and shut me out.'

'I didn't try and shut you out,' retorted Picard. 'What with one thing and another –'

'Don't try and pretend that the years since we boarded this ship together have been that different from the ones onboard the old _Enterprise_, Jean-Luc,' Beverly snapped. 'We barely saw action during the war, and we've not had a single major diplomatic mission since the incident on Ba'ku. Which brings me back to Anij.'

Beverly stood and stalked away to the far side of the room. 'I had the strangest feeling when I realised what you felt for Anij. I felt betrayed.'

Picard looked up at her, shocked. 'Why?' he asked, his voice low.

'I was devastated when Rosanna died,' said Beverly quietly. 'I was surprised when I realised how I had accepted your marriage – I couldn't be overly pleased, but I was satisfied that you had found the right person. When she died, and you came back to us; I hoped you might come to me – hoped we might be able to rebuild what had been lost together.'

'I couldn't know that. How could I be expected to know that?'

'That wasn't what I meant.' Beverly stepped closer to him, and Picard saw the tears shining on her cheeks. 'I wanted to comfort you in the way I knew how, but I knew you would want to know why it was if I came to you – and I can't bring myself to lie, Jean-Luc, not to you, and certainly not over anything like that, even if it did meaning hurting you again. I had to be you coming to me. Instead, you went to Anij.'

'So you felt betrayed because I could not come to you?' whispered Picard. 'Why?'

'I love you, Jean-Luc,' said Beverly, and her voice broke for a moment. She dropped her gaze from his eyes, fighting for composure. 'You know now how I feel. You've known since we were linked. I turned you away then – there's not been a day gone by when I haven't regretted that decision and it's been six years since that day. That's a long time for anyone – longer for both of us, as you well know. Love's an irrational feeling, and it's taken control of me like it's never taken me before. Not even for Jack.'

Beverly felt her mind become calmer as she said this, and her voice settled down. 'I hated Anij because she had felt something from you which I never expected you to feel for another after Rosanna died. I was jealous and I felt betrayed, wrongly, by you. That's been difficult to get through.'

'Have you got through it?' asked Picard. 'Is that why Deanna suggested you should come here?'

Beverly settled back into her seat, feeling a sense of relief wash across her. 'I think so. I can't understand why, and I don't want to… but I feel that I can accept your relationship with Anij. That's not important to you, I know; but it's something I needed to deal with.'

'You're wrong,' said Picard, his eyes dropping to the floor. 'Your feelings matter a great deal to me. I felt scared of my feelings for you as soon as you said no to me six years ago. I couldn't feel that we could retain the close friendship we had developed, knowing what we knew about each other. I know now that I cannot continue a relationship with Anij. The person she knew is not here any longer. I am a different man. Even Rosanna might not be able to recognise me. I have gone through a great many terrible things since she died, and I do not think that I will ever come to terms with all of them.

'But you are my constant, Beverly,' he added tenderly, looking at her for the first time. 'You have been with me, patient and caring beyond anything I might deserve. I have not treated you well enough for your care, your faith – and your love.'

'I haven't come here to claim something from you, Jean-Luc,' replied Beverly. 'I came here because I wanted to talk and be open with you. We haven't been open about our feelings for a very long time.'

Picard nodded in agreement, a smile touching his lips. 'I'm glad you came to talk to me, Beverly. I did need to see you. I'm sorry it couldn't have been sooner.'

'Thank Deanna – it was her idea,' replied Beverly.

'I don't think you would have come if you hadn't truly been considering it yourself,' said Picard. Beverly inclined her head slightly, smiling herself now. 'How bad is it?'

Beverly knew what he meant. 'You need to reassure your crew, Jean-Luc,' she said quietly. 'That's all for the moment. After we've dealt with the Aralla, we can look at what happens next, but for now, that's all.'

Picard nodded, understanding. 'I've almost forgotten that I have a crew to lead here – it's felt so often as if I was fighting the Aralla single-handedly that I nearly forgot what it was to have my friends by my side at the most important moments.'

'We're all here for you, Jean-Luc.'

Picard smiled and turned his gaze onto Beverly, his tone becoming suddenly serious. 'All I need by my side is you, Beverly,' he said slowly. 'I realise that now.'

Beverly dropped her gaze, embarrassed by the sudden warmth of Picard's tone. He continued, 'Circumstance has forced us apart again and again, Beverly. I've lost Rosanna, I don't want to lose you.'

He reached out and took her hand in his, cradling it gently. 'Thank you for being honest with me. You're right; I've not been fair to you, of all people, in the last few years. I can't make up for that – but I can try to repair the damage. Do you know what you'd planned to do after all of this?'

The question caught Beverly by surprise and she stared blankly at Picard before answering slowly, 'I haven't really looked at it as that kind of watershed, Jean-Luc. I hadn't given any real thought to the future.'

'Maybe you should,' said Picard. 'I'll not be in command of the _Enterprise_ for much longer, you see. I'm going to be promoted to Admiral at the end of the year, and Will's going to be taking command. I'd like for you to come to Earth with me and take over at Starfleet Medical again.'

Beverly smiled at him. 'I had thought about going home again. I don't like to admit it, but it has felt like we were coming to an ending of sorts all of a sudden. I don't know what's possessed me to think like that, but I know others like Will and Deanna have said the same thing.'

'So, would you consider it?' asked Picard, his tone hopeful.

Beverly smiled at him. 'Of course I will. I'd love to be able to go back to Starfleet Medical, and I'd be even happier to go back to Earth with you.'

Picard's face broke into a relieved grin. 'Thank you, Beverly.' On impulse, he surprised her by reaching out and embracing her. After a moment's surprised hesitation, she returned the embrace.

It was only after they had remained locked in the embrace for a few seconds that Beverly realised how much her heart rate had speeded up. Slowly, she broke the embrace and looked closely into his eyes. 'I think I should go.'

'Please stay,' whispered Picard.

She knew her decision was already made. She had known it the moment he had asked her about the future, and she faced it with joy in her heart. 'I will.'

* * *

'The time is 0830 – this is your requested wake-up time. You have no new messages. Would you like to download status reports to your local terminal?'

'Mute,' called Picard as he sat slowly upright in his bed, surprised for some reason that it was already morning. It had seemed only a short while ago that he and Beverly –

He turned to see Beverly Crusher laid in the bed beside him, serenely and asleep. He smiled at the sight of her, suddenly reassured that the night before had not been a dream.

Picard lay back onto his pillow, manoeuvring an arm under her sleeping form. Beverly snuggled up to him without seeming to wake up, but gave the lie to that impression by opening her eyes and looking at him peacefully. 'Good morning,' Picard said quietly.

''Morning,' was the reply. Beverly propped herself up on one arm and looked at him unabashed. 'What now?'

Picard looked bemused. 'Well, what I usually do is get out of bed, make some breakfast and read up –'

Beverly smiled, placing a hand gently on his arm. 'I meant about us.'

'Oh.' Picard sat back, allowing Beverly to lean onto him. 'I'd prefer to leave that sort of decision until we've finished our work here. You've already promised to come back to Earth with me – and I can't imagine that anyone would have any sort of objection to our relationship.'

'What about Rosanna?'

Picard didn't answer. Beverly pushed herself up to look at him apologetically. 'I'm sorry,' she said quietly.

'Don't be,' said Picard, although Beverly could see the pain in his eyes. 'I wouldn't have even contemplated last night if I hadn't begun to work through my pain.' He turned to face Beverly. 'Rosanna is dead now – I accept that. It's not easy, I'll admit; it will take me some time to fully work through all of my feelings. But she understood our past, Beverly. She understood my feelings for you, and she accepted them. I don't ever believe that she would want me to pine away for her – she knew I would not stand for it from her… and at the time, it seemed more likely that I would be the one to die first.'

Beverly heard the crack in his voice before she saw tears and she reached out and held him as she had longed to do since he had come back to them from madness. 'I still miss her terribly,' Picard said forlornly.

'I know,' whispered Beverly. 'I understand more than you know.'

Picard reached out to her and kissed her softly on the lips, a kiss born not of sadness but of a simple desire to touch what he had, knowing that all else but love was transitory. 'I have denied myself what is truly meaningful for so long,' he murmured quietly. 'I have lost beauty once – I don't want to lose it again.

Beverly smiled, understanding. 'I'll always be here.'


	18. Bound Together

_Chapter XVIII_

It was time.

All of the waiting, all of the planning, all of the tensions; all of it now came down to this pivotal moment.

The _Enterprise_ and her accompanying taskforce were two hours from their interception of the Aralla city destroyer around Cordac Two. According to Data's best prediction, the Aralla ship would arrive nearly a full hour earlier. Picard didn't know what they were planning – but he intended to make sure they had as little time to do it as possible.

The captain of the _Enterprise_ sat at his ready room desk, studying a text displayed on his computer screen, while many more padds were scattered carelessly across the desktop. He looked up as the door chimed its signal. 'Come in.'

Riker entered, bearing yet another padd report. 'We've got all of the status reports together from the fleet, sir. Geordi's completed a full engineering analysis of the Aralla ship and Data's been looking at the power consumption ratio again. They're both convinced the Aralla are storing massive amounts of power up.'

'I would tend to agree with them, Number One,' replied Picard as he made another note on the screen and then closed the file down. He took the padd from Riker and scanned through the contents quickly. He then set it down in the last uncluttered space on the desk and muttered, 'I think I'm trying to start a collection.'

'Looks that way,' agreed Riker. 'Do you want me to help sort them out?'

Picard shook his head. 'I've read through them all, Will. I'll leave them until we've completed our mission.'

'Well, I offered,' replied Riker. 'But if we take a hit and they go on the deck, you're on your own.'

Picard could only muster a small grin at Riker's flippancy. Both men could feel the tension that permeated the atmosphere of the ship, and neither of them now wanted to lose their edge by relaxing too much.

'We're coming into sensor range of Cordac Two,' said Riker. 'Data's made some long-range scans, but we're not detecting anything strange.'

'Is there any sign of the dimensional anomaly?'

It was Riker's turn to shake his head. 'No, sir. We're looking for the same parameters that we detected three years ago, and we're not picking anything up.'

Picard looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Let's try something else.' So saying, he made his way onto the bridge, with Riker trailing behind.

Picard went straight to Data's position and leant over the android's console. Riker took his customary position to the left of the control board. 'Data,' said the captain, 'I need you to scan for a different set of parameters.'

Swiftly, Picard listed the parameters he wanted and watched as Data's android reflexes programmed them in faster than the eye could follow. 'Complete, sir,' reported the android after a few seconds.

'Initiate scan,' ordered Picard.

'What are these new parameters?' asked Riker.

'These are based on the readings the _Enterprise_ took at the moment that we destroyed the dimensional anomaly in the alternate universe,' explained Picard. 'If the Aralla are attempting to reopen a dimensional portal, the readings may match up.' His attention turned to Data. 'Anything?'

The android frowned. 'Not as yet, sir. However, I am picking up a strange reading from the Aralla ship that seems to be corresponding to these parameters.'

'From the city destroyer?' echoed Picard, surprised. 'Any ideas why?'

'No, sir,' replied Data. 'I'll continue scanning until we break out of warp – I may find out something as we get closer.'

'Are you still registering the power build-up?' asked Riker. Data nodded.

'Theories?' snapped Picard.

'None, sir. As my report stated, Geordi and I believe it to be a massive power surge being controlled somehow in the Aralla ship, which would explain the loss of their warp propulsion output. But as to why, I have no possible explanation.'

'Very well,' replied Picard. 'ETA at Cordac Two, Mr Truper?'

'One hour, forty-three minutes,' was the response.

'Go to yellow alert,' Picard ordered Hedly. 'Carry out full diagnostics on shields and weapons and tell Geordi I want that antiproton beam ready in twenty minutes.'

'He said it'll be ready in ten, sir' replied Hedly, who had obviously been waiting for the order. 'I've already started my teams on their final checks on tactical systems. We'll be finished in thirty minutes.'

Picard smiled. 'Keep up the good work, Commander.'

'Aye, sir.' Hedly flashed a brief smile before turning her attention back to her board.

Picard looked up at Riker. 'If you need me, I'll be in my ready room again.'

* * *

There was no doubting now. The good fortune that had sustained it was coming to an end. The power build-up would not be ready until the enemy came out of warp. The computers could not funnel the energy any longer and were being forced to direct it into the weapon one last time.

This meant that the hated ones would have enough time to begin their attack before the ship could fire. The Aralla did not concern itself over death, but it would not wish to die without completing it's last task.

Tiredly, it programmed in a last series of commands to the archaic command computer and leaned back, exhausted, into its chair, perfectly designed to fit the contours of the fragile body of the Aralla. Now, it thought, at last it could join the others –

That line of thought broke off suddenly as the Aralla sensed the presence of another mind nearby – one that was actively seeking for it. Thoughts of an almost joyful nature entered it's mind, and it directed the last of its mental effort towards this interloper, anxious to inflict injury, even of the mildest type, on the benighted creatures that pursued it to the end of existence.

* * *

Troi frowned slightly as she stretched her senses forth to try and probe into the mind of the Aralla. Picard had ordered her to do so, as her alternate universe counterpart had been able to make some contact with the Aralla and she knew from her own experiences at _DS9_ that she could pick up the stray sleeping thoughts of the Aralla populace sleeping in hibernation.

So far, however, all she was reading from the Aralla ship was dead black darkness – almost as if she was merely peering into empty space. Which was odd – even in the deep hibernation of the Aralla's population chambers, she would still be able to detect a tiny flicker of life –

Suddenly, Deanna knew she was being watched. She paused for a moment, feeling the surprise from the other mind, which had obviously expected to be alone. She stretched out empathic feelers to the other consciousness, appreciating its utterly alien identity with only tentative pushes.

For a moment, the alien stayed back from her mental touch, before reaching out suddenly and touching her mind.

Cold -

* * *

Riker had just finished programming in his last tactical orders to be issued to the fleet when Troi suddenly jerked out of her chair to the left of the captain's seat and collapsed to her knees with a choked scream.

Before he knew what had happened, Riker was by her side, catching her around the shoulders, preventing her from falling to the deck. Dimly, he was aware of Hedly shouting for medical assistance, but his only thought was for Deanna, who lay unmoving, pallid and breathing shallowly, in his arms.

* * *

'How is she, Beverly?' said Picard, his voice full of concern for his friend. Beside him, Riker clutched convulsively at the edge of the bio-bed, his eyes not leaving Troi's silent body.

Beverly stood at the head of the bio-bed, performing a scan with her tricorder. 'She's gone into a mental shutdown. Some form of synaptic shock reaction. Her brain activity's slowed down to a very low level and she's in a form of protective coma.'

The doctor closed the scanner down and sighed. 'What happened?'

Picard glanced at Riker, who replied without taking his eyes away from Troi. 'There was no warning. She simply collapsed suddenly.'

'What was she doing?' asked Beverly. Her question was directed at Picard.

The captain sighed. 'I ordered her to keep a mental watch for the Aralla consciousness. She's been able to make a limited contact with the Aralla in the past – I was hoping that she might be able to give us a clue as to their intentions. I guess I was wrong.'

'If the Aralla tried to attack her mind, that might cause this sort of reaction,' replied Beverly thoughtfully. 'I've got some data on Betazoid defence reactions that might help me.' She fixed Picard with a stern look. 'You should have told me about what you were planning.'

'I'm sorry, Beverly,' replied Picard bitterly. 'I wanted to get some advance warning of the Aralla plans. I shouldn't have put Deanna's life at risk.'

There was a moment's silence as the three all stood enmeshed in their own thoughts, before the silence was broken by a bleep from the comm system. 'Bridge to Captain Picard.'

'Picard here.'

'Sir, we're about to cross into the Neutral Zone. We're approximately one hour from intercept,' said Lieutenant Truper's voice.

'Status of the city destroyer?'

'They're still on course. Estimate they will break out of warp in twelve minutes.'

'Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Hold course – I'll be there shortly.' Picard turned to face Riker. 'Will, do you want to stay here?'

Riker didn't look up immediately. 'Yes, sir,' he replied. He laid Troi's hand gently on the bed and stood up, his expression resolute. 'But I know my duty.' He looked at Crusher. 'Let me know if there's any change?' he asked.

Beverly nodded. 'Immediately.'

* * *

'Give me a long-range tactical projection on the main viewer,' ordered Picard as soon as he and Riker entered the bridge. 'Let me know the minute the Aralla drop out of warp.'

The main screen flashed into life, displaying a 3-d view of the fast-approaching system of Cordac Two. Picard gazed at it thoughtfully for a moment, watching as a symbol began to move into the outer reaches of the system – a symbol that he had chosen from his memories; a death's head.

His reverie was broken when Data said, 'The Aralla are coming out of warp and dropping to impulse power. Estimate they will assume orbit of Cordac Two in five minutes.'

'ETA in Cordac system?' asked Riker, who had taken his seat.

'Forty-nine minutes,' answered the android.

Picard sat down beside Riker. 'Now we wait.'

* * *

The _Enterprise_ had the most powerful scanners in the entire fleet – not strange, as most of the rest of the fleet consisted of warships. Therefore, Picard ordered the tactical plan of the Cordac system to be transmitted to every ship in the fleet – Romulan or Starfleet. So, for thirty minutes, the bridge crews of the entire fleet watched tensely as the giant Aralla ship moved into a standard orbit of Cordac Two – and did nothing else.

Picard himself was utterly mystified by this inactivity, flying in the face as it did of all he knew of the Aralla's behaviour. The only thing that had rung true about this entire escapade was the attack on Troi. Picard clung to that, in the belief that it signified that the Aralla were trying to accomplish something – something that they felt Troi's mental touch had either interfered with or had discovered.

If that were not true, then his entire rationale behind this mission would fall apart. As bad as the Aralla were, Picard knew that the fleet he commanded – the Starfleet part at least – would not open fire on an unarmed or otherwise passive opponent. They simply did not know the Aralla as well as he did. Only his comrades aboard the _Enterprise_ had experienced the full horror of what their foe could do, and even then, only in part.

Picard knew he could not order his crew to go directly against the fleet. Captain Gastrovicz and the others might stand by and allow the _Enterprise_ and the Romulan fleet to obliterate the Aralla, but that action would almost certainly end his career in Starfleet. For his own peace of mind, if for no other reason, Picard had to know what the Aralla were doing and what they planned. There could be no peace otherwise.

Picard knew that if he succumbed to the desire for vengeance alone, he would be no better than the darkness he sought so urgently to eradicate. He would not be the man that Rosanna Thames and Beverly Crusher had fallen in love with, and he knew he would not be able to look himself in the mirror ever again. Only one thought had driven him onwards – he would not destroy the Aralla in the name of vengeance for the death of his wife – he would destroy the Aralla to save the Federation from the truth which he knew lay on the other side of the dimensional portal – an Aralla invasion fleet.

Just one of the mother ships making it through the portal would be a disaster beyond imagining – more than one, and Picard knew that the world he lived in would be consumed by fire totally. He could not live with that again.

An Aralla invasion force would have learnt the lesson of their past alternate defeat – he knew that in his bones. This Aralla city destroyer had used weapons they had discovered in their long war – and had even created a devastating new version of their superweapon. Instead of a single ship being able to destroy a city, a single ship would instead lay waste to an entire planet with one shot.

The concept of the Aralla War repeated again with such weapons of mass destruction did not bear thinking about.

These were the apocalyptic thoughts running through Jean-Luc Picard – he had borne them in his mind ever since he had first learned of the existence of a surviving city destroyer. He had been unable to share them, even with the closest members of his command staff, only alluding vaguely to death and destruction in proportions unimaginable to those who had never seen them. Even Troi did not truly suspect the dark thoughts running through his head – her empathic sense hinted only at a darkness difficult to see into and impossible to see through.

Therefore, the Aralla had to be trying to open the gateway again – it was the only conclusion that made any sense. It was the only conclusion that truly fitted what Picard knew of the Aralla.

If Picard was wrong about this – if the Aralla had decided to change or to do something else that he could not predict – that would mean that the whole edifice of his self-imposed mission would come crashing down around him. The only logical motivation for the Aralla to be at Cordac Two was to permit the entry of their surviving fleet. No other motivation could exist that he knew of.

There was also the warning of Benjamin Sisko to take into account – his deadline was fast approaching, and Picard knew that it was all tied together. The Aralla were in some way connected with the coming obliteration, and it was a destructive concept that Picard could barely comprehend, never mind think of how to deal with it. To deal with what he knew was coming, he had to narrow his thinking to one objective.

His only focus now was to stop any threat to the galaxy from the Aralla becoming real enough to engulf them all in war. If he could destroy their ship, it would mean the galaxy was safe and that he would worry about any personal consequences afterwards.

* * *

As he sat and watched the tactical display impatiently, Picard slowly became aware of a light flickering over the Aralla symbol. 'Mr Data, what is that?'

'Sir?' asked Data, looking around, his face puzzled.

Picard motioned towards the tactical display, and Data turned in time to see the flash of light again. The android frowned. 'I have no idea, sir.'

'Are you registering any major changes in the Aralla ship?' asked Riker, whose attention had also been caught.

'Not on long-range sensors,' replied Data, his fingers dancing across the board.

'Picard to Engineering.'

'La Forge here.'

'Commander, have you seen the anomalous reading from the Aralla ship?' asked the captain.

'No, sir,' replied La Forge. 'I'll call it up.' There was a short pause, and then La Forge said, 'Sir, I'm reading a slight change in the output figures for the Aralla ship. They're increasing their output very slowly.'

'What does that mean?'

'All that I can tell from this reading is that they're simply upping the productivity of their power plant – whatever that runs on. It's the same as if we increase power to the engines or the shields.'

'Can you tell what stage it's at?' asked Riker.

'Not at the moment, sir,' was the response. 'But as we get closer, I can work with Data to get a better understanding of what they're doing. I'll need to come up to the bridge.'

'Very well,' replied Picard.

La Forge made good on his statement very quickly. Less than two minutes after speaking to Picard over the intercom, he arrived on the bridge, looking slightly breathless, and made his way to the aft engineering station. Immediately, Data rose from his station to join his friend and they began looking through the information gathered by the _Enterprise's_ sensors.

* * *

-_Dark!_

Troi jolted upright out of the bio-bed with a scream.

In a flash there was a ward nurse by her side, catching Troi around the shoulders as she reeled back, holding the other woman gently but firmly.

In another moment, Beverly Crusher was by Troi's side, whipping a tricorder from the side of the bed and performing a quick scan of the counsellor. She took a moment to cast her eyes over the readings, and breathed a small sigh of relief. She raised her head from the scanner to look at Troi.

The Betazoid was staring around wildly, her heart racing and breathing gasping and ragged, before her eyes focused on Beverly's concerned face. She began to relax and sagged into the nurse's arms, sobbing and fighting to get herself under some sort of control.

'Deanna,' said Beverly, pushing closer to Troi's side. 'Can you tell me what happened?'

Troi looked up into Beverly's eyes again, and the doctor jolted back on her heels as she saw the fear and horror in the counsellor's eyes. 'Beverly, I saw them!' She began to weep, still fighting to regain control as her head bowed low. 'Oh, God, I saw them! All of them, _dead!_ Every one – all gone!'

'Who?' asked Beverly. She reached out and gripped Troi's shoulders, forcing Troi to look at her again.

'The Aralla,' whispered Troi. 'All of them are gone – but I saw what their plan is. They're going to destroy everything.'

* * *

It was a few minutes before Picard, Riker and Data could make it down to the sickbay, although Riker did his all to get the turbolift to move faster. Now he stood by Troi's bedside, holding her hand, and supporting her gently as she sat up, pale and wan.

The counsellor had managed to calm herself, with the aid of a mild sedative agent that Beverly had applied, and she now stared up at Picard, her dark eyes speaking to him of a terrible truth they now shared and mutely acknowledged. 'I saw the Aralla mind, Captain.'

'I thought you said they were dead,' said Beverly gently.

Troi nodded. 'Yes, they are – now. What I sensed was the last embers of the Aralla consciousness as it fled into death. It died even as it attacked me; if I had caught the full force of that attack, I would have been in a coma for the rest of my life – if not dead. No, I was lucky. But just as it vanished – I caught a glimpse of everything they tried to hide; death of the mind strips the brain of its higher centres first, exposing memory.'

She dropped her head, controlling the wobble that had entered her voice. The others waited anxiously for Troi's next words. When she spoke again, her speech was calmer. 'Captain, you know about the Aralla group consciousness, don't you/'

Confused by the change of tack, Picard replied, 'A little. Based on information I gleaned from the Borg when I became one with the Unimatrix, I surmised that the Aralla had a similar kind of gestalt consciousness.'

Troi nodded. 'Yes, but with one difference. Whereas the Borg are a group consciousness dominated by one will, the Aralla are an example of cohesive linked minds. All Aralla can communicate and interface with their gestalt at will, and all Aralla have an equal voice, which is expressed through their leaders, individual Aralla who give up their own mental presence within the consciousness in order to express the views of a particular faction. The commander of the Aralla fleet is simply the voice of the largest faction at any given time. In wartime, they tend only to have one leader, but in this situation, their commander kept changing as they kept trying to adapt to the situation. Their system only produced chaos once they were in panic.'

Picard's eyes widened in surprise. 'I hadn't suspected any of this. Did you get all of this from a single contact with them?'

For the first time, Troi allowed herself a small smile as she shook her head. 'I read a lot of your personal logs on the Aralla, Captain, while you were still suffering from your breakdown. I wanted to know as much as I could about our enemy, and you noted down a lot of your own theories of the Aralla in your logs.'

A smile crept over Picard's face as he found the thought of Troi searching through his personal items and having a listen to them quite amusing. He said so, and added, 'I'm sure there's a charge that can be brought.'

'If we survive,' said Troi sombrely. 'What I did learn from the Aralla mind-touch was some information about what's happened to them since they fled the wormhole. The decision to destroy Kiros was taken by the gestalt consciousness of all the Aralla – every one of them that was in suspended animation. They reacted to the information they had at the time, and obeyed their natural instincts.'

Troi's gaze met Picard, and the captain whispered, 'To destroy and conquer.'

'What does this tell us about what they plan now?' queried Data, his tone not masking his impatience, reminding everyone of the newly emotional nature of the android.

'I think I can see the way this is going,' said Picard. 'Did they know about their defeat in the alternate universe?'

Troi nodded. 'And the death of Admiral Nechayev. They knew all about you, Captain. That was why they tortured you. I got a sense of deep satisfaction over their capture of you, and pleasure at being able to exact some measure of revenge. However, they were aware that they were alone and without outside help from their own race. An Aralla is never truly alone with the central consciousness, but this was as close as they could get. When they were repelled from the wormhole, through which they had intended to flee and try and find a world to rebuild their race on, the consciousness decided upon a desperate measure.'

Troi's eyes filled with tears. 'Captain, they are alone. There is nothing left on the other side of the dimensional rift. The Aralla race is dead, and they were the last representatives of their race.'

'You keep saying "were",' interjected Beverly. 'Are they not any longer?'

'No,' replied Troi, shaking her head again. 'They have succumbed to their rage and lust for vengeance. If they cannot live, they do not see any reason why they should allow any others to inhabit a universe they cannot.'

Picard reeled, understanding the impact of Troi's words. He turned away, pacing to the other side of the sickbay, listening with only one ear to Troi's voice. 'I don't know how they're going to do it, but they've sacrificed everything to make it happen. They've drained the power from every single system aboard the ship and directed it into their superweapon; they drained auxiliary systems, secondary weapons – eventually, they deactivated life support.'

'Good God,' whispered Data. 'They killed every living thing on the ship to power their superweapon.'

'What I sensed was the last Aralla left alive – it fought to survive to make sure the city destroyer emerged from warp at the correct destination – and then died.'

'But how can they carry out their plan?' asked Beverly.

'They have powerful automatic computer systems,' said Picard quietly, not turning. 'With most of the population in stasis chambers, the computers have to do most of the basic tasks to keep the ship running. It was always too easy to get around their ships undisturbed simply because most of their race never awoke.'

The captain turned to face the others. 'I should have seen it before when we were onboard their ship. It was dark because they were already deactivating non-critical systems.'

Data nodded in agreement. 'It explains why they have been losing speed from their engines – once they calculated they could reach Cordac Two using the power they had left, they could begin shedding speed. It also explains what we registered at long range. Captain, Geordi and I have been looking at a massive, hitherto unexplained power surge within the Aralla ship. I expect that they have completed their build-up cycle and are prepared to deploy their weapon.'

Picard stared into the android's eyes before tapping his commbadge hurriedly. 'Picard to bridge.'

'Bridge here,' replied Geordi's voice.

'Geordi, what's our ETA?'

'We're approaching visual contact, sir. Estimate seven minutes until we come out of warp.'

'Order the fleet to go to full speed,' ordered Picard. I want them to –'

'Sir, I can't,' replied Geordi, and Picard suddenly noted a tone of frustration in his chief engineer's voice. 'I was just about to call you, sir. A few seconds ago, we lost all communication with the fleet. There's a subspace distortion field surrounding Cordac Two, and we just entered the fringes of it. At the moment, it's only powerful enough to disrupt our ship to ship communications, but I think it's getting stronger.'

'We're coming up,' replied Picard. 'Get as much information as you can.'

'Aye, sir,' replied the engineer, before he cut the channel.

Picard strode over and took Troi's hand. 'I'm sorry, Deanna,' he said quietly. 'But thank you for telling us. We'll stop them.'

'I know,' replied Troi, her gaze resolute.

The three officers left sickbay, with Riker casting a reassuring but anxious glance at Troi. She smiled at him, and held the smile until he left, looking slightly happier. Troi turned to face Beverly, who looked very worried. 'I guess we can't do anything now.'

'You're probably right,' said Crusher. The doctor sat down by Troi's side, and took her hand silently. They waited in silence.

* * *

Picard stormed from the turbolift onto the bridge, and grounded himself firmly in the centre of the deck, glaring at the display. 'Do we have visual yet?'

'Bringing it up now,' replied Hedly calmly.

The screen flickered, and the tactical display dissolved into a sight that chilled Picard to the bone.

The familiar giant red shape of Cordac Two hung in space before him, bright sunlight glimmering faintly from it's bloody red atmosphere. The sun's reflected rays caught and bathed the Aralla ship in an embrace of radiant glow, momentarily imitating the petals of a flower as the destroyer briefly eclipsed its light.

The jet-black city destroyer orbited the planet peacefully and almost serenely, absorbing the light and not reflecting any forth into space. Picard noted how little internal glow was being created by the enemy ship, in contrast to the faintly shimmering dots of light which had pockmarked its surface in times past.

'Have you completed an analysis of the disruption yet, Mr La Forge?' snapped Picard.

'Only partially, sir,' responded La Forge. 'I think it's a by-product of the massive power storage in the Aralla ship. It's not increasing at the moment, but it could if they let the power build-up much further.'

'They won't,' said Picard firmly. 'Commander Hedly, raise shields and power all weapons. Battle stations.'

Hedly responded without question, and the red alert klaxon blared its call to arms for a moment before she muted its effects on the bridge.

There was a moment's pause before Hedly said, 'Captain, the fleet has noted our shift to battle stations. They've begun powering weapons systems.'

'Good,' replied Picard. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before raising his head slightly and saying, 'All hands, this is the captain.'

All across the ship, the crew looked up from their newly acquired battle station, surprised to hear Picard's voice at such a moment. They knew, from long experience, that such a move meant that the captain believed that they were entering a dangerous situation that would require all their best efforts to come safely out of.

'I know that much has happened in the last few weeks that you do not understand,' said Picard. 'Events that you have been a part of, but not been allowed to know what you have achieved. I have noted the magnificent efforts of you all in making the _Enterprise_ the finest vessel I have ever served on and neither I nor the Federation will ever forget your sterling devotion to your duty.

'For those of you who do not know, we are about to enter battle with a fierce alien race which has only one thought – to destroy. They have resolved that they will destroy all life that we know of, simply for a thirst for vengeance beyond understanding.

'You may be aware of their link with the death of my wife, Lieutenant Rosanna Thames, a person some of you knew well. The alien parasite which possessed and destroyed Admiral Nechayev was one of the enemies which we face now. We fight for our own vengeance now, but we do not fight for that alone.

'We are motivated by the purest of drives – the desire to protect our family and friends, our loved ones and the ideals and very existence of what we are oath-bound to protect even to the last resort of death – the Federation. We now fight our deadliest and most implacable foe, and we fight for the very survival of all the we hold dearest in our hearts.

'We may not come back from what we about to face – but even if we do not, I know we will not fail our appointed task. It is a duty appointed to us at the moment of our birth. We know when we enter this world that one day we will die. We don't know the time and manner of our death, but we may have some input in the manner of our final rest when the moment is upon us. I believe it is upon us now.

'I do not say this to bring despair or to destroy confidence. I say this as a matter of plain and simple fact. It has been given to us by something unknown – a higher power even – that we might meet our end in this fashion. We can choose our path with light heart and strong will, to meet our doom in the manner we choose!

'I tell you now that we will defeat our enemy. All of you have sworn to uphold the ideals of the Federation – now do so! It is of little consequence that we might give our lives in this great service – if we fulfil our honour bound oaths, we will do so in the knowledge that we have preserved a future for all of our beloved ones.

'We go to our destiny – and we will be victorious in the last despite. This is our final reckoning – it will be the greatest of all!'

* * *

Hedly smiled quietly to herself as she watched Picard drop back into his seat, and she made a slight change to the still open channel. For a moment, the entire bridge crew could listen to the cheers of the rest of the crew throughout the _Enterprise_, shouting their support for their captain and their defiance of death.

Picard turned to look up at his tactical officer, a strange half-smile on his face. 'Thank you, Commander.'

* * *

The fleet emerged from warp almost as one, with the _Enterprise_ herself front and centre of the grand formation of starships, flanked on either side by Romulan Warbirds.

They had come out of warp about one hundred and twenty thousand kilometres from the Aralla ship, which did not even seem to register their presence as the fleet banked towards it, their weapons trained keenly upon the dark hull. The gigantic ovoid vessel had positioned itself so that the massive circle of the superweapon pointed directly at Cordac Two.

Picard came out of his chair as he saw the Aralla ship looming before him, a solid jet wall dully glowing like polished obsidian in the starlight. 'Commander Data, what is the status of the Aralla ship?'

'They have no shields,' reported the android calmly. 'Their engines and weapons are deactivated and they are adrift. We are detecting a gigantic energy concentration in their superweapon chamber, however. I cannot ascertain if they are planning to fire.'

Picard nodded slowly, not taking his eyes from his hated foe for a moment. 'Have we re-established contact with the fleet?'

'I believe that we can focus a narrow band transmission to the nearest ship, sir, but not to any other,' replied Hedly after a moment's thought. 'I've been working on a method to do so.'

'Is it ready to use?' asked Riker.

'Yes, sir.'

'Proceed,' ordered Picard.

There was a moment's pause as Hedly programmed her console, but then the screen flickered and Commander Ratek's face shimmered slowly into view. Although the picture was grainy, the Romulan was perfectly recognisable. Beside him stood Relesi and Serisa, the two sisters to either side of his command chair. 'Captain Picard,' said the Romulan with a trace of surprise. 'I thought communications were down.'

'They are, but we can use a tight beam transmission to make contact,' Picard replied. He turned to look at the security officer. 'Commander Hedly, transmit your settings to the _G'gerithau_.'

'Aye, sir,' responded Hedly.

As she set to work, Picard turned to face Ratek again. 'Commander, we're reading a massive power build-up in the Aralla ship. We believe that we can stop it, but the _Enterprise_ can't attack on it's own. I need your support. Can you get this message and attack orders to the rest of your ships?' Picard decided he wouldn't tell the Romulan everything – on the basis that he didn't have the time to explain the situation in a manner Ratek would believe.

Ratek narrowed his eyes at the human. 'We have monitored the same thing, Captain. But what use can it be if the Aralla choose to waste their power to attack this planet?'

'I can't explain,' replied Picard, 'as I do not truly know if it is an explanation that you would necessarily believe. Commander, I ask you to trust me. I can order my ships to follow my command, but not yours. You are under orders from the Praetor to eliminate this threat. After this is over, I will explain it all to you.'

There was a moment's silence, and then Ratek nodded. 'You have been honest with me, Captain. I can wait for an explanation a short while; as you say, my orders are to attack and destroy this ship. Consider it done.' He glanced at Relesi, who had turned to another console before turning and nodding to her commander. 'We have your attack plans. We will move when you move. _G'gerithau_ out.'

Picard whirled to face Hedly. 'Get me – '

'Sir!' shouted La Forge. 'We're reading a power surge on the Aralla ship!'

* * *

Sickly pale green light began to pour from the Aralla ship's underside as the giant superweapon began to open its doors. Slowly the giant black pylons extruded their deathly shapes into space, each one dwarfing the ships that observed in silent horror.

Picard gaped at the shock of the sight before him, aghast at what it meant. 'Commander Hedly, lock all weapons and open fire!'

'Belay that!' yelled Geordi. As Picard swung around to castigate the engineer, he added hastily, 'Captain, if we destroy the Aralla ship, we'll trigger an explosion big enough to wipe out this entire sector!'

'Better the sector than the entire universe!' shouted Picard – but he could not know that it was already too late.

* * *

The energy began to pulse through the slender shape of the firing spire as it forced its way into cold space. White fire ran up and down the length of the structure, until it finally found release.

Picard had just turned to look at the screen again when a ball of liquid immolation burst forth from the Aralla superweapon and a single stream of white fire connected with the red crust of Cordac Two, punching into the surface, burning through kilometres of solid rock in mere nanoseconds.

It was as if a sun had suddenly exploded as a supernova before the eyes of all who could see throughout the fleet. Automatic filters cut in on screens and windows on every ship, but at even their maximum strength men and women, Romulan, human were forced to turn away or be blinded. All except Picard, who shielded his eyes and forced himself to watch, horrified, as the Aralla won one last time.

Within brief moments, deep within the planet's core, the beam had scorched through miles and miles of both molten and solid rock, streaming into the dimensional rift that lurked within.

Within the city destroyer's cold dead depths, the final Aralla rested in its command position, dead eyes fixed to the screen which showed the terrible cold beauty that the rage of millions of corpses had released upon existence. Silently, the computers which soullessly carried out their final commands, released the full power of the superweapon.

The beam intensified to a unimaginable level of ferocity as all of the power stored within the Aralla ship screamed through the spire, its destructive force focused with pinpoint accuracy on the rift, which gulped the energy down greedily.

At the same moment, the Aralla ship's structure found that it could no longer support the forces exerting their devastating influence upon it. Succumbing to the immense strain, the city destroyer began to collapse.

At first, it was not obvious, for the blazing light of the energy beam overwhelmed almost everything. After a few moments, Picard discerned another beam coming from the city destroyer. Spearing out of the top of the ovoid, directly above the superweapon, the new beam intensified quickly, turning the city destroyer into a bright parody of a child's spinning top, light piercing darkness both from above and below. The parody lasted only a few brief seconds more before fire overwhelmed it.

Suddenly, an immense explosion ripped apart the superweapon's focusing spire, sending a massive current of power surging throughout the ship's systems. It was only brief moments after the weapon had fired that the feedback tore through the dark ship. In the darkened cavern of the hanger bay, countless small fighters bore mute watch as fire exploded from the bulkheads on all sides. The dead pilots of these small craft burned and vanished in the final immolation as they were wiped from existence by cleansing flame. In the hibernation chambers, millions of suspended corpses burned like tiny brief candles and went out in brief seconds.

In the command centre, the last body only lasted a brief moment longer before the fire consumed it.

* * *

Picard watched in bitter silence as fire consumed the Aralla ship from the inside, as the last city destroyer died writhing in the grip of a terrible power that it could no longer control. The white beam died away as the ship that bore it was torn apart by a final wave of explosions, ripping itself apart in a cataclysmic ball of fire.

The fleet rode the blast that carried through subspace, as ships on the seas of yore had ridden out terrible storms by turning their bows into the waves. Immense pieces of shrapnel were pushed aside by the navigational deflectors of the fleet; and then the fury was past and space was silent.

The last of the Aralla were annihilated.

Picard released the breath he had been holding and slumped into his command chair, unable to believe that he had come so far and not been able to complete the destruction of his nemesis with his own hand. He buried his face in his hands.

Silence reigned before Riker got to his feet, leaving Picard for a moment. 'Has the subspace disruption gone, Data?'

'Yes, sir,' replied the android, his voice quiet and awe-struck by what they had just witnessed.

Riker sighed. 'I guess there's no need to hang around here. Contact Commander Ratek and –'

'Oh, no,' whispered Geordi's voice from the aft console.

Riker whipped around to face the engineer. 'What's wrong?'

'I can't believe what I'm seeing,' replied La Forge, his voice stunned.

'What are you seeing?' snapped Riker, anxiety washing over him.

Geordi turned to look at him with eyes full of horror. 'The planet's collapsing.'

* * *

Earthquakes rippled across the whole surface of Cordac Two, tearing vast chasms and valleys open right across the planet. Mountains tumbled into vast pits of magma and others exploded into life as new, short-lived volcanoes.

As the _Enterprise_ crew watched, dumbstruck, the red dust that had lain undisturbed for centuries broke apart and collapsed into fire. Within brief moments, the entire surface of the planet had been enveloped by molten rock.

'What the hell is going on down there?' murmured Picard, who had been roused from his torpor by the awesome sights before them.

Even as he spoke, the magma began to cool as it met the hard vacuum of space, turning in moments into solidity. But that essence of permanence did not last more than a second.

Bright white light began to shine through cracks in what became clear was a mere thin shell of rock. At first, only rays of light filtered out into view, but as the seconds ticked past, more cracks began to form in the surface, releasing more light to spill across the void, until finally the entire façade collapsed into a maelstrom of swirling meteors.

For another moment, these remnants spiralled around the giant grave of Cordac Two, before they were sucked violently into a huge ball of light which shone in the darkness where there had once been a world.

'What is that?' asked Riker quietly, his question directed at Data.

'My scanners register nothing there, Commander,' replied the android, equally quietly. 'It is a hole in subspace like nothing I have ever seen before.'

Riker turned his gaze from the screen with some difficulty to find Picard staring, open-mouthed, at the thing which had been born from destruction. 'Do you recognise it, Captain?'

Picard nodded slowly, his gaze slowly turning to one of dismay. 'It's the rift. It's open again.'

Abruptly he turned and went to his command chair. 'Commander Hedly, order the fleet to come about and retreat. We need to get into open space. Lieutenant Truper, get us out of here.'

* * *

As the fleet turned clumsily away from the huge ball of light and prepared to make their escape, there was a shimmering within the rift. At first, it was confined to the interior of the rift, but suddenly it spread out, rippling across the intervening space between the fleet and itself and beyond them out into the darkness of the void.

* * *

A crash shook the _Enterprise_ from stem to stern, and the serene forward motion was jolted to a violent halt, throwing the entire crew to the deck. As the collision alerts sounded, Picard yelled, 'Report!'

'We're caught in a massive gravimetric distortion!' Data yelled back, as another massive crash rocked the ship from side to side.

'On screen, reverse angle!' was the order.

The reverse view appeared on screen, showing the massive shape of the rift, framed by the _Enterprise's_ warp nacelles, and also the rest of the fleet, struggling equally against the pull. The _Enterprise_ continued to rock from side to side.

'Lieutenant Truper, full impulse power now!' ordered Picard.

'Aye, sir,' replied Truper shakily.

Immediately, the _Enterprise's _shaking became lighter and easier to withstand. Picard levered himself out of his command chair and made his way to Data's station. 'Data, can you tell me what's going on?'

Data stared blankly at his instruments for a moment before answering. 'Yes, and no,' he replied.

'Interesting answer,' said Riker, who stood behind the android. 'Let's hear what you _can_ explain.'

'We're caught in a massive gravitational pull which is getting stronger. The pull is emanating from the dimensional rift. The entire fleet is caught in the pull. We're not quite the closest in. We can hold our position, but that's all.'

'How long do we have?'

Data dropped his eyes. 'I don't know, sir. If everything remains constant, we can maintain our position until the impulse manifolds burn out. That will give us a few days.'

Geordi approached the tactical console to look at his captain. 'Sir, we can't go to warp. The stresses would break the ship apart.'

Picard nodded slowly. 'So we're trapped.'

There was a pause, but then Geordi shook his head. 'I was keeping a full monitor on the Aralla ship until it exploded. I've performed a quick analysis of the energy they were pouring through their superweapon.'

'Can you pass the results through to my console?' asked Data.

Geordi nodded. 'Already done.' Data turned away from the conversation as La Forge continued, 'The Aralla modulated their beam in a way I've never seen before to a specific wavelength. They specifically targeted an area of the crust that was already weak in order to waste as little energy burrowing through the surface. That beam was designed to feed energy into the rift for a very definite reason.'

'Oh God,' whispered Data. He lifted his hands from the console with a look of horror on his face. 'I can't believe it.'

'What?' asked Picard, turning to look at the android.

'Captain, the rift has been fundamentally altered. I have compared our sensor readings with those we took when we first encountered it and there has been a massive change. It was originally a gateway between realities, as you know.'

'Yes?' said Picard as Data paused.

'It is now more akin to a black hole,' said Data bleakly. When Picard did not respond, the android continued, 'The rift is now emanating a massive gravitational force, and is pulling in everything in the surrounding area. It has doubled in size since the Aralla opened fire, and it will continue to do so. As its size increases, its pull will become stronger, and I do not know how to stop it.'

Suddenly another huge shockwave ripped through the _Enterprise_ again, knocking everyone to the deck as the ship tilted crazily.

* * *

As the _Enterprise_ rolled, the white ball expanded again, it's tendrils reaching further into space. Too close now, the Romulan Warbird _Cheraka_ suddenly listed to one side. The light in its warp nacelles died, and the proud ship was ripped apart in a second into a metallic shimmering cloud of debris which was sucked into the swirling vortex of nothing.

* * *

Picard closed his eyes as he watched the death of the _Cheraka_ unfold in silence. He and the rest of the crew knew that they would soon be following the unfortunate ship into oblivion. He pulled himself to his feet and turned to look at the android. 'Mr Data, what is your projected scenario?'

'Assuming the rate of increase is constant, I predict that the rift will engulf the sector in about five hours, perhaps sooner. It is doubling every ten minutes or so, sir. I do not know if it can be stopped, and the more it devours, the more it will expand. It is literally feeding from the matter contained within the universe itself. The released energy is driving the expansion of the rift. In essence, it is devouring reality. It will only stop when there is no more left to feed on.'

'Eventually devouring the Federation, the galaxy and the universe,' murmured Picard.

'So this was the Aralla plan all along,' said Riker by his side.

'And they sacrificed themselves to do it,' replied Picard. 'I thought I would always hate them, Will. But now I pity them – pity them for what they have thrown away for hate's sake. And I shudder to think how like them I nearly became.'

Picard sighed heavily and turned to face the rift. 'It is time to end this. Is there anything we can do?'

'My only theory was that we might employ a subspace bubble, sir,' said La Forge from behind him. 'A warp shell.'

'I've heard this theory before,' said Picard to himself. He noticed Data nodding slightly in agreement with La Forge. He added out loud, 'How do you mean?'

'If we create a static warp shell within the grip of the rift, we might be able to break it's gravitational pull for long enough to allow the rest of the fleet to break free,' said Data. 'In addition, I believe that it would act as a barrier between the material universe and the immaterium of the rift. This might stop the rift from feeding on matter for long enough that it would collapse. I believe that we can maintain the shell for up to thirty seconds, which should be long enough at this stage in it's development. There is one small drawback however.'

Data looked into Picard's eyes. 'The combination of pressure and the use of a warp shell means that the ship will be crushed by the rift the moment the shell fails.'

As Data said that, Picard felt something inside him suddenly stop. 'Then there is only one option.' He met Riker's gaze. His friend nodded once, a smile on his face. 'Do it.'

Geordi nodded sombrely. 'It'll take a minute to set the parameters.'

As he turned to his console, Picard looked at Riker. 'You can go down to sickbay if you want, Will.'

Riker half-smiled, shaking his head knowingly. 'No need, sir.'

At that moment, the turbolift doors opened and Troi and Beverly Crusher made their way onto the bridge. Riker made his way to his love's side, and guided her to her seat, and took his place at her side, sitting in the captain's chair while he quickly explained the situation to Troi.

Deanna glanced up at Picard once and gave him a reassuring smile to let him know her acceptance of the situation.

Hedly abandoned her post and made her way to her husband's side at the helm. Truper made space for her on the seat beside him, and she draped her arm around his shoulder, tears in her eyes.

For his part, Picard took Crusher's hand in his and looked into her eyes. 'I'm glad that I got to share something with you, Beverly. I'm sorry it couldn't go further.'

'We had enough,' said Beverly quietly. She leant her cool brow against him and they stood silently for a moment in each other's love.

'We're ready to go,' said Geordi softly.

'Do you want to inform the crew?' asked Riker.

Picard shook his head. 'They knew what we were heading into before we came out of warp,' he said. 'But I do want you all to know that every minute that I served with you all have been the proudest of my life. I'm lucky to have been friends with you all. Your loyalty and steadfastness have been a rock under my feet whenever I might have fallen. I am singularly honoured to call you all friends.'

Picard grasped Beverly's hand tightly in his and turned to face whatever death's future would hold. 'Mr La Forge – engage.'

La Forge entered the command.

The rift expanded.

Everything stopped.


	19. Focal Point

_Chapter XIX_

_Picard had braced himself for a sudden ending. What would it be like, the final dissolving of consciousness into the void? Would there be pain? Would he feel his nerves screaming as they were incinerated by the massive explosion radiating from deep within the ship which had been his shelter and home for so long?_

_Or would there be peace? A simple collapse of flesh and blood into an out rushing of energy, pouring forth to carry them all into something beyond?_

_After a moment's pause, Picard realised that nothing had happened. It was, at the very least, an anticlimax._

_Those feelings; thoughts; deductions even, came before the realisation that there was utter silence on the bridge._

_The captain glanced around quickly, before he remembered Beverly's head resting gently on his shoulder. Slowly, dreading what he would see, he turned to face her._

_She was utterly frozen beside him. He stared at her for a long moment, before he touched her arm, reaching out gingerly as if he felt she might shatter at the touch._

_As his fingers met the cloth of her uniform, he felt a slight tingling sensation in the tips, but no more. However, he also realised that apart from the tingling, he had not experienced any other sensation. Touching should have brought a wealth of impressions into his mind, least of all the physical experience of touch._

_But nothing. It was as if she were not there._

_He stepped away and moved so he could see the whole bridge._

_The bridge of the _Enterprise_ was frozen, silent. There was no sound, no hum of instruments, no mutter of routine reports; not even the soft sound of his own breathing._

_All colour seemed leeched from everything he surveyed, washed out so that even the brightest colours were faded and wan. Picard did not know if the rift was causing this effect, or if it was his own perception that was flawed in some manner._

_Crusher was stood, eyes tightly shut, utterly frozen and unmoving. Picard let his eyes brush across all of his friends, taking in what had happened._

_Geordi was facing away from him, his finger poised to press the button that would issue the final command that would be received by the Enterprise's computers. Riker sat in Picard's command chair, in the act of turning to face Deanna. Truper and Hedly were locked in a kiss by the helm console, and Data sat alone at the science position._

_All frozen._

_All silent._

_Picard turned again to look at the screen. The view had not changed, but he could see things that he had not seen before._

_The rift was not a single ball of utterly opaque white, but was a roiling maelstrom of twisting, changing vistas. Picard suddenly realised that he could see –_

* * *

The ship shook violently. Riker shouted, 'Report!' 

'The Romulans have unleashed some form of massive graviton bomb, sir,' shouted Hedly at her captain, fighting to restore power to the failing shields. 'We're caught in some form of black hole!'

'Are the Romulans affected?' asked Ben Sisko, the first officer of this _Enterprise_.

'No, sir,' replied Data, from his position at the helm. 'But the Jem'Hadar have been drawn in!'

'Damn!' shouted Riker, slamming his fist. 'It's a Romulan trap!'

'Looks like it,' replied Sisko, his dark face scarred from some unknown incident. Now his left eye was milky-white and blind. 'What can we do?'

All eyes on the bridge turned to the screen, in the centre of which was a vast ball of light.

Time stopped -

* * *

_Picard was thrown back suddenly from his concentration, aware that he had seen into another strange reality. He knew, of course, of the existence of parallel universes – his entire experience with the Aralla was founded on their actuality – but it was deeply disconcerting to be suddenly thrown in and out as if he were a cosmic yo-yo._

_Time had stopped there – stopped, and cast him from that universe. It was a place in which he did not exist, he knew. He remembered faintly what Q had once told him – that he, Jean-Luc Picard, was an utterly unique person in the multiplicity of universes that coexisted side by side, separated only by the thinnest of barriers._

_But in his brief experience, he had noted things of considerable interest. In a universe that was separated from his own only by the indefinable veil of a cosmic whim, the rift existed; indeed, it was as powerful there as it was here._

_Even if he could, he did not need to look again. Picard knew that the rift was being created, had already been created, in other universes – for all he knew, in all the other realities. And it was having the same effect in all those other places._

_It was then that the enormity of the Aralla's last masterstroke hit him, horrifying him beyond words._

_Their plan had not been merely to destroy the universe that they had inhabited for however short a time. Being creatures that had moved between realities, they had come to be aware of the possibilities offered by their interdimensional travel._

_Somehow, the Aralla had been able to adapt their technology to the point at which they could interfere directly with this portal between possibilities. And they knew what they wanted to do._

_They would not simply destroy one universe – they would destroy all universes!_

_Untold numbers of innocent creatures would be wiped from existence. Untold possibilities would be strangled at birth or before they were even born to satisfy the bloodlust and craving for revenge that this terrible race had for one man alone._

_It was not enough to wage war against Picard's people, nor to kill his wife and soulmate. The Aralla had been determined to exterminate everything._

_The sheer scale of their hatred utterly astounded Picard and he fought back his terror as he contemplated the fact that he appeared to be the only one who could do anything about it._

_He was the Focal Point. It was his task. Now he understood the talk of destiny and of ultimate choice. He now had the only opportunity to turn aside this final terrible blow, and save all of creation._

_For a moment, his mind could barely comprehend the enormity of the task._

_It was a long time before Picard could look up at the screen again as the apocalyptic thoughts ran through his mind. But look he did and he saw something utterly alien – and very familiar._

_Golden threads coiled everywhere that he could see, millions upon millions of them. So many that they should have blotted out the stars themselves – but they did not._

_Instead, they seemed to be utterly solid and bright, but also transparent and faint; a quality Picard did not understand – but could perceive._

_He looked again at the rift, and saw how the delicate fibres all seemed to be joining and winding around each other outside the ship, away from him, creating one immense chain that spiralled into the rift. Simultaneously, Picard became aware that the golden rope that was being drawn into the rift was also connected to him through the millions of tiny fibres that sank into his body. Like before, in Engineering, he found that he could move and do what he wished and that the threads would follow his every move, but not constrain him in any way._

_Picard almost laughed at the image of himself, twined about by golden cords, but not restrained in any way. He understood that these threads were not merely parts of the universe with which he could interact – they were also part of him._

_He looked closely again at the rift. Within it's roiling vortex, he could see other threads, countless millions of them, all connecting with the thread that stemmed from this universe. He knew instinctively what they were – he understood that which he did not understand before, and the knowledge made him feel truly free for the first time in his life._

_The threads were something that Q had mentioned once, in the runabout Missouri, after he had stopped Picard from killing himself. "Spiralling around you," was how Q had put it, and Picard now understood what he meant._

_The threads were a representation of the fates of all the living things in the universe. All creatures that could choose their own fates had their own thread, no matter how tiny. Picard knew from his experience in Engineering that these threads could be broken, like what happened to Data, but also that they could be reconnected. Although how the android had suddenly gained emotions was anyone's guess._

_All beings were interconnected in some way; most of the time, these threads could not be seen, Picard knew, and could be affected only in the most roundabout of ways. Sometimes a small nexus in this giant web would form, and a decision could be made that would affect the fates of millions. Such was Benjamin Sisko, when he decided to mine the wormhole, precipitating the Dominion War._

_And sometimes, as Q had been trying to explain to Picard, there was one massive gathering of all the threads in a universe, and this would be a focal point. This one was focused around Picard._

_He looked down at himself, and saw, with little surprise, that the cord which stretched into the rift was also connected to him, seemingly snaking from his chest and through the viewscreen._

_Picard's mind was opened to this new way of observing the universe in mere seconds, and he understood also why his mind had been hyperstimulated according to Beverly's instruments. It was the only way in which his primitive brain could be persuaded to understand. It was truly an epiphanic moment - he felt as if a bright light had suddenly illuminated a mind which had groped blindly in a Stygian blackness deep as space itself._

_Picard smiled to himself. Finally, after all of this searching, he could see the way ahead. It was something only he could do._

_Geordi's plan would fail, he knew. The engineer had not taken into account, could not take into account the effect that the interaction of all of the multiverse in one place would have on space and time. His plan might seal off the rift to this universe, but it would devour all others separate and still connected. Indeed, it still might destroy this reality as it became even more powerful._

_But Picard knew. He could see it. Not with his eyes, but with his mind._

_He reached out his hand gently, and touched the thread. He shuddered as he felt the power running through him, but began to stretch forth his mind along the cord._

_As Picard's consciousness drew further away from his body, and closer to the rift, he felt the pressure of infinite possibilities swarm around him. The Vulcan mantra of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations swam through his mind briefly, reinforcing his knowledge that he drew closer to the ideal of IDIC._

_His consciousness flowed into the rift, becoming one with the myriad realities. He could no longer express what he was experiencing in physical terms. His very soul was merging with the threads of destiny. He felt his anima become utterly harmonious with the golden cords which bound him to the rest of reality, and connected every single fate throughout time, to his body._

_He felt himself drawn fully from his body, leaving the shell behind him, no longer necessary. He joined with the golden thread, becoming one with the future, past and present all intertwining, all threatened by this hideous anomaly of the Aralla's making._

_He knew what he had to do. Reaching out one last time before the pressures of withstanding the outside worlds overwhelmed him, Picard gently began to separate reality from rift. As he did so, he knew that his time here was already coming to an end, knowing that he had too much to do and not enough time to do it._

_So it was that he felt his strength failing at the last despite. He turned his mind to the golden thread that connected back to his reality, and perceived a change in it. It seemed much thicker and more powerful than it had once been when he had first touched it, and he could not help but try to merge with it again._

_As he did so, Picard felt power surge into him. The shock would have destroyed his physical body, but his new consciousness accepted the strength and absorbed it. Filled almost to the brim with this new vitality, Picard saw the way._

_He and the rift were now almost as one – the same, yet opposite; reflection into infinity. The one point that truly possessed unique properties in this infinity of universes confronted the one point at which all of these possibilities connected._

_Picard plunged into the white._

* * *

The Cube shook as the power of the rift surged through it. Four drones watched emotionlessly as one of the Cube's attendant Spheres was torn apart by the maelstrom of power. Silently, they were directed to target a neutrino pulse into the rift. 

It was far too late for these Borg – even as they prepared the device, unheeding of their fate, the rift leaped forward and devoured their ship in it's maw.

* * *

_Picard pulled himself away with a frisson of horror running through him before time could cast him from it's presence. That was a universe he hoped never to see again – one that had been taken totally by the Borg._

_He knew that there might be such horrors in the multiverse – he could only hope he was strong enough to deal with them when they arose in his consciousness._

* * *

'Sir, we're reading a massive gravimetric disturbance off the port bow!' said Riker. 

'On screen,' replied Captain Chakotay, fighting to remain calm as his ship, the USS _Illinois_, tried to shake itself apart around him.

The rift blazed into life on the main viewer, astounding everyone on the bridge. 'What is that?' snapped Chakotay.

'Unknown,' replied the science officer. 'It appears to be a massive disturbance in subspace.'

'Full reverse!' ordered Chakotay as the _Illinois_ shuddered and listed hard again. 'Try and break free!'

'The rest of the fleet is reporting that they cannot break away,' reported Riker, his voice remarkably calm from the helm position. 'We are at full impulse, but are slowly being dragged forward, sir!'

Time stopped -

* * *

_Picard found himself smiling slightly, even as he fought hard against the currents of these realities, forcing his way ever closer to the centre. Another possibility to be wondered over, he thought._

* * *

'The Cardassians are requesting urgent assistance, Captain,' said Lieutenant Hedly from her position at the _Enterprise's_ tactical station. 'How should I respond?' 

Captain Data stood up from his command chair, watching silently as the Cardassian ship they had been in the process of negotiating a surrender from writhed in the grip of the huge rift that had suddenly torn space apart before their very eyes. 'Lock a tractor beam on the Cardassian vessel, Lieutenant.'

'Aye, sir,' replied Hedly. The beam of blue energy ensnared the _Galor_-class warship in it's clutches.

Instantly, the _Enterprise_ was rocked hard, lashed by the disturbances from the rift. 'Full impulse,' ordered Data calmly, his voice giving no emotion.

'Aye sir –'

Time stopped –

* * *

_Picard paused for a moment, considering what he might do. He did not know what to do at this juncture. All around him, he could sense the realities crowding in, crushed deeper and deeper into the rift, obliterated, second by second. But he did not know what to do – how could he? What human had ever faced such a foe?_

_For a moment, he despaired._

_As he did so, he sensed something drifting gently towards him. The thing was another thread, but blue in colour. He watched as it touched him gently, entered his consciousness, joined –_

* * *

'What in the gorram 'verse is that?' 

The bridge of this small ship was at the same time primitive and advanced. Three people stared through a window onto space, which showed only a bright glow of energy where once had been the dark void.

'It's got us caught in a gravity well, cap'n!' exclaimed the one who appeared to be a pilot, sitting as he was at some old-fashioned joystick controls. 'We're stuck fast!'

The ship shook and rattled as it fought against the power of the rift. But to no avail.

Time stopped –

* * *

_Picard became aware of what he had just witnessed – a completely different universe, which seemed to obey different physical rules. He had instinctively grasped that fact from the moment the new thread had touched him._

_He felt other threads, hundreds of them, thousands, more than could be counted in a lifetime. All of them drifted towards him, and although they were beyond number, he could still perceive each one individually. He knew what they were._

_They reached out, capturing him and drawing him in deeper._

* * *

Black spider ships seemed to crowd space, sending screams arcing through the minds of all who beheld them. Long coruscating beams of fire cut deep into the hulls of already wounded ships, sheering massive hulls apart with the ease of a hot knife through butter. 

Suddenly behind them, a ball of white tore space apart, transfixing all of the fighting vessels in its grip, ripping those apart that had strayed too close.

Time stopped –

* * *

_Picard barely had to time to comprehend what he had just seen as another thread touched –_

Here was black emptiness in space, stars glittered icily in the darkness and there seemed to be nothing here.

But there was an ominous feeling of something being present that could not be seen, as if any presence that was unexpected was deemed trespasser here. The unseen eyes moved cruelly in towards the unwanted presence.

Light crackled across space, the rift blossomed into life, tearing the attention of the unseen watchers away from their first concern towards this new threat. They knew fear.

Time stopped –

* * *

_He struggled vainly against the current, but could not stop them – _

Here was empty space when the rift blazed into life –

_Could not fight - _

Here, Starfleet vessels were dragged slowly into the rift's maw –

_Cast from world to world - _

Here, the rift erupted beside a planet, ripping away the atmosphere in brief moments, condemning billions to an icy death –

_Helplessly watching as millions died - _

A star exploded into a vast supernova as the rift appeared within the core –

_Only one constant – the rift._

Time stopped –

Time stopped –

Time stopped - !

* * *

_Picard's mind broke away from the overwhelming power of the intertwining realities. For a moment, his mind had been on the point of collapse – he had felt sanity slipping away from him. Having been through that experience before, he was in no mood to repeat it._

_Touching the threads, he realised, thrust him into alternate realities, new possibilities. But he had no point of reference; there was no way to orient himself before he was cast into the next reality without warning or control._

_He fought his way clear from them, struggling against their siren song, calling to his inbuilt explorer's instinct to see what was over the next horizon, fighting clear to safety._

_Although he had felt the threads being drawn to his presence, he found that if he consciously drew away from them, he could actively repel them from reaching him. Rather than being drawn blindly to him, the threads of destiny reacted to him and his control, accepting his natural place both within and outside of their grasp._

_This was important, he knew. He could control the threads, influence them – and still remain outside of their control._

_Therefore, he could draw them out of the rift._

_He realised that before he had entered the rift, from his point of view outside the _Enterprise, _he had instinctively realised and acted on that knowledge, trying to separate his own universe's thread from doom, not realising the effect that might have on other realities interacting within the rift. As much as he desired only to close the rift away from his own reality, he also acknowledged the duty and responsibility this power gave him over the fates of all other possibilities._

_And instinct had been the key; he had acted on the basis of a knowledge that he had never before been consciously privy to, but had always acted on throughout his life – the awareness of the choices before him – an awareness once hammered deep through his heart by the blade of a Nausicaan dagger, brought to life so vividly by Q._

_It was something he had relied on all of his life – and he would not fall away now. It was not a mystical power that he had, but clarity of thought and purpose – the same which drove him to join Starfleet, to make the stars his own_

_Picard understood what the problem was now. In a way, the rift was defending itself, despite not being conscious. The threads were attracted to a focal point, and at this moment, both the rift and Picard were that. One was the utter destruction of everything – the other was the salvation of everything. It was as starkly clear as that – there were only two possibilities._

_He drew on that intrinsic knowledge – knowledge that formed and shaped the core of his being._

_He saw all possibilities._

_Jean-Luc Picard surrendered to his instincts._

_His mind lifted upwards on a surge of energy. He found light emanating from all around him, carrying him deeper and deeper into the heart of the dimensional gateway._

_He barely understood what he saw on a conscious level, his mind dazzled and befuddled by the beauty and majesty of the spiralling cords of destiny as he sped at dizzying speed along their length – until bright light swamped his vision._

_He experienced a brief moment of searing clarity which scorched across his mind._

_Deep in the heart of the schism, the threads of destiny met. They spiralled down, countless, utterly beyond reckoning, descending from the pure white radiance, their colours shimmering and crackling, almost alive in their intensity._

_As they fell like a giant spider's web, stretching away beyond comprehension, the cords twined and coiled, dancing with living energy, carrying their realities deeper into the rift – into the crushing oblivion created by the Aralla's final lunatic act vengeance._

_Where once they had met in harmony, crossing each other gently, but with no interaction besides the occasional brushing, the cords now bunched tightly together, crushing themselves into annihilation. They drove themselves down, deeper and deeper, farther than Picard could possibly perceive._

_Picard knew what he was seeing – the giant cords were solid, living realities, interpreted by his mind in the only way it could. Each of them was made up by the tiniest of filaments, such as Picard had seen in Engineering. Each one was the life of an individual entity, down to the tiniest insects._

_Picard was perceiving the web of creation, the very fabric that formed the darkness between stars, the walls between left and right – the threads of individual choices._

_Picard could feel his conscious mind try to deny what was before him, but he sidestepped his rapidly unravelling physical senses and trusted to the subtle deft touches of his subconscious mind. He knew that what he perceived was not a literal truth – it was only a metaphysical representation of something he could only begin to imagine. But it was enough._

_He moved deeper into the heart of the rift, although he knew that was also not the right way to describe what his enemy was. His enemy was very much the creation of the Aralla – a pure force of anti-life, anti-reality, a destructive crushing elemental force that devoured mindlessly until all was gone. Picard knew it as truly as he understood how the Aralla themselves were a deadly antithesis to all other forms of life themselves. In their death, they had conceived and given birth to a force even more destructive and powerful than themselves. If they could not have life, neither could any other._

_There was too much to be absorbed here. Picard knew that he had to act quickly, for the rift grew more powerful with every passing moment. With infinite regret that he might never be able to grasp even the most basic concept behind this incredible vision, he turned his attention from appreciating its beauty towards considering its destruction._

_For the moment, he had no idea how to go about doing this. A massive incomprehensible force was sucking the entirety of existence into oblivion, whilst he, a mere human, whatever Q might have said in their recent conversations, was expected to save reality by – what, exactly?_

_Picard felt despair creeping over him, an understandable response given the size of the task, and ruthlessly crushed it with an effort of iron will. As he did so, he carelessly turned his attention away from repelling the threads which swarmed around him. Instantly they fell upon him._

_He reacted to their sudden fall and tried to block them again, but this time he was too late. Blindly, he tried to retreat, to hide his mind from the terrible effect that so many different realities intersecting within his mind would have, but to no avail._

_They fell, wrapping around him – connecting into his mind._

_Picard jolted as a surge ran through him, pure white hot intensity running through his brain. He was not instantly cast into other realities, trapped by the threads – instead, he felt the power and force within them flow into him, strengthening him beyond belief. Somehow, by fleeing away from the threads of destiny, he had instead been able to allow them to connect and become one with him – in effect, he had surrendered to their power._

_But he had no time to consciously appreciate this. Without warning or prompting, the threads pulsed with energy and Picard felt his entire mind become suffused with the force of all life within these universes. Pain wracked his mind, energy blurring into searing light and incredible waves of power sweeping through him. Without willing it, he withdrew into himself, fleeing from the energy as more threads were wrenched from the rift's grasp, lashing towards him with terrifying power and speed. _

_Suddenly within the heart of the rift, energy blazed into life with an intensity of vitality, springing from the life-force of the only creature belonging to the reality outside of the rift to be unaffected. Without knowing, Picard had provided a centre, a nexus of solid reality, which had entered the rift and now shattered it's power._

_Now a focal point of pure energy, utterly unconscious to the primal promptings of his life essence, Picard drew the threads away from the anti-life of the rift and towards the vitality of his very spirit._

_For a moment, a perfect balance was reached, as the rift found its power challenged at the very moment that Picard's essence reached the zenith of its strength._

_And like the sudden, destructive moving of tectonic plates, an eternity of warring forces suddenly collapsed as one gave way._

_The threads broke away from the rift, spiralling towards Picard's consciousness, which welcomed them into itself. More and more stripped away from the heart of the rift, snapping towards the newly dominant force. As they connected with Picard, they flooded energy into him, strengthening him even further, draining intensity and power from the rift and as he did so, the rift began to collapse in on itself. The great heart began to break under the strain, weakening as the threads were drawn safely away from it._

_In countless universes, the rift which had bloomed into being collapsed and faded into the darkness of space as if it had never existed. Mere seconds of real time had passed since its birth in the grave of Cordac Two, and now it died in brief seconds. Over and over again this happened, freeing more and more alternates from destruction they had barely glimpsed._

_Where time had jolted to a halt, it came back to life with no indication that the end of everything had been barely averted. Across the multiverse, life came back without even knowing it had been away._

_Finally no longer able to sustain itself, the heart of the rift ripped apart in a massive surge of energy, releasing all of the realities from its death-grip, exploding outwards in a wave of power that faded and died in the cold void of space._

_There was an instant of agony; the feeling of an entire consciousness being scattered into tiny atoms and consumed by fire. The universe seemed to lurch violently, throwing him to the edge of oblivion – and beyond._

* * *

Riker's eyes widened. 'What the hell?' 

The rift had vanished. At the very moment that it expanded for what they had believed would be the last time, the rift had collapsed mysteriously. All that remained was a gently expanding ball of white energy and a tiny dot of white light which winked out as Riker watched.

'Did you see what happened, Data?' asked the first officer. 'Did it work?'

'I did not even have time to commence the final sequence,' replied the android, sounding as stunned as Riker felt. 'We were caught in the rift – or, I thought that was what had happened. It appears I was wrong.'

There was a moment of beautiful silence on the bridge, as every single officer there felt absolute relief sweep over them. It was a moment, Riker knew, which was being emulated on every ship in the fleet as the last remnants of the rift died away from sight.

And then the moment turned to terrible horror as Riker turned to look at his captain.

Quietly, in Picard's ready room, the computer voice whispered, 'Countdown complete. Day zero reached.'


	20. The Final Reckoning

_Chapter XX_

The man had known darkness and light, had experienced all facets and colours of existence, one tortured and now released from all obligation and responsibility. For a time, his thoughts wandered amid the void, not overtly conscious but aware and silently waiting.

In a dark corner of his tortured mind he could still feel strong connections to a past which now seemed like a dream. But they grew weaker with every passing age, a heartbeat in the life of the universe.

He saw stars wheeling across his vision, flaring and dying, breathing new life into the cosmos in those same violent ends. Nebulae bloomed and cooled, coalescing into new stars and the circle began again. In that dark corner of his mind, he understood the technical processes behind these events, knew what the science told him about the vast interactions of molecules and atoms, the changing of elements and alterations in the very make-up of these stellar bodies – but at this moment, he only saw the stark beautiful glory of these majestic events.

Through the darkness, a voice called his name. He didn't react at first, didn't understand the words being used. Insistent, the voice called again.

Now, his conscious mind heard and reacted, but not to the words. Instead, it made one of the strongest of those links reach out blindly; desperately hoping the owner of the voice would catch him and arrest his fall. He remember now calling, screaming to that voice to return to him once, long ago. Now, he finally felt the answer that he had awaited to hear, had prayed to hear for so long.

The voice responded to his touch, reaching out with joy to scoop him up and rescue him.

* * *

There was a moment of cold – a brief fleeting experience, transitory in the extreme. A feeling of an exposure to the deepest and most terrible extreme. 

Then peace. Serenity.

After a moment of exquisite calm, he became aware of a gentle but pervasive noise. The sound recalled to him the memory of far-off voices, separated from him by a wall which blocked their sound partially, but still audible. This noise did not disrupt his sense and he quickly realised that if he concentrated for a moment, the voices would fade away.

However, as he did so, he then became aware of the lack of other noises. If he had been returned as he expected, he should have been able to hear the voices of his crew.

With a sudden surge of dread, Jean-Luc Picard's eyes snapped open to reveal –

White.

Torn from his momentary repose, he forced himself upright, having realised that he was laid flat on his back, and tried to take stock of what was around him. Or, more accurately he found, what was _not_ around him.

As far as he could see there was nothing but bright white light. He could perceive no depth at all, so he could not know if he was in a vast field of white, or if he was surrounded, allowing a space only for his body.

Picard felt a surge of panic run through him for a moment, before he ruthlessly quelled it.

Reflexively, Picard almost leapt to his feet without thinking. Standing on his own two feet, he was suddenly able to gain a better perception of his environment. He could feel a solid surface beneath his feet and, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness surrounding him, he suddenly realised where he was.

'Q!'

'All things considered,' said a voice from behind him, 'that wasn't bad, Jean-Luc.'

Picard turned to face Q, observing that, unlike before, when Q had affected the dress of a Starfleet officer with a captain's rank, the being now wore a simple white robe. 'I've seen this trick before,' snapped Picard. 'I want you to send me back to the _Enterprise__now_.'

Q stared at Picard for a long moment, surprising the human with the intensity of his gaze. 'Jean-Luc, do you still only care about the safety of that hunk of metal in which you troll about the stars for a few short years before Riker and Troi manage to ram it into the nearest planet? Or do you not somehow feel that there is something larger at stake? The safety of the universe, perhaps?'

Picard returned the gaze. 'I am aware that, if I had failed, we would not be having this conversation at this moment, Q. You said yourself that what was to happen would overwhelm you as well.'

Q nodded. 'Correct. Your mind is clear, obviously. What do you remember of your experience?'

'I don't… know,' replied Picard slowly. His mind sifted through what had happened, trying to make sense of something that was beyond human experience and beyond what he could perceive. 'I remember impressions, sights, what I tried to do. I don't understand a lot of what happened – I suspect I never really will; but I do remember that I saw everything that was and is. I don't know how – '

'Yes, you do,' said Q. 'But you can't articulate what you know, can you?'

Picard hesitated, before realising that the other was right. He could sense what had been there - what he had seen; but he couldn't articulate the sensation in words.

Colour and sensation still lit up his mind like fireworks, but he could not explain what the deeper truth was behind the spectacle. He knew, on a subconscious level, exactly what had happened, exactly what the rift had been doing, and exactly how he had sealed the hole in reality; but he could not put it into words.

Uncharacteristically lost for words, he looked to Q with an air of desperation. Q regarded Picard for a long moment, before he waved his hand casually at an empty spot, which a moment later was filled by two leather armchairs.

Picard sighed, recognising Q's traditionally pedantic style of explaining things. He slumped into one of the seats, admitting (to himself at least) how weary he felt.

Q took the other seat beside the human. For a moment, neither said anything, but then Q began to speak. 'Jean-Luc, I understand all that you have gone through. You know yourself that I have watched you through all of it, from beginning to end.'

'As I remember, you instigated most of it,' remarked Picard acidly.

Q's face became almost sad. 'Not strictly true, my friend.'

Picard became suddenly alert, noting both Q's expression and tone of voice. This was not the Q he thought he knew. 'What do you mean?'

'While it is true that I acted as an agent for what has happened, I cannot in honesty say that I began the process.' Q turned to face Picard. 'There have been deeper forces at work here, Jean-Luc. Deeper forces, far more powerful and subtle than anything the Q could do. I spoke of the threads of destiny?' Picard nodded, now confused by Q's urgent tone of voice. 'I was being far more literal than you understood.'

Picard drew back slightly, having been drawn in by the strange behaviour of the omnipotent being. 'I'm sorry, Q! Are you seriously expecting me to believe that this has all been preordained before my birth? No, that's just farcical.'

'As farcical, I imagine, as believing that I orchestrated it from the beginning?' snapped Q suddenly, surprising Picard. 'Just because you cannot see a flash of light does not mean that it is not there!'

There was a moment's pause, and then Q began again, calmer. 'I assume you have heard theories – at your level at least – of how the universe may be a living being?'

'Well,' replied Picard, 'less scientific theories and more spiritual thinking; but yes, I have.'

'The Q Continuum is, as you might expect, somewhat better versed in this school of thought. Many eons of thought and exploration have gone into our understanding of how the universe is and thinks. Yet, still we are so far from any sort of ultimate vision of the universe. I do not pretend to even have a strong understanding of what the real truth is, but I do know that I was tasked by the Q to guide you through your trial.'

There was another pause. Picard stared for a moment at Q, not quite believing what he was seeing. From his experience, Q was arrogant, self-serving, dangerously fickle and considered himself to be utterly superior to mortal men such as Picard.

At least, added Picard thoughtfully, that was how he wanted to be seen. What Picard had observed in Q over the last few years was a different persona, still scathing and intolerant of slow humanity, but also prepared to guide and help. Less mischievous and spiteful, almost as if he had stopped acting a character and begun to show his true colours.

There _was _another agenda here – much larger than he at first had acknowledged. Picard closed his eyes for a long moment, and then said, 'Q, I should have asked this question a long time ago; I suppose I have been repeatedly overtaken by events.'

Q nodded, not saying anything. Picard continued, 'What is going on?'

Q smiled widely, obviously amused. 'That is the right question. And you're right; you should have asked it when I first visited you after the Aralla War.'

Picard thought back for a moment to that time, both distant in the past and far into the future and acknowledged what Q was saying. 'Would you have given me the truth?'

'Oh, yes,' said Q, 'but it would have only been an interpretation of the truth. You accepted that which I did tell you, but I barely brushed the surface. Only now are you ready for the full truth.' Q sighed. 'The only issue is that I don't really know the full truth.'

Picard visibly deflated. Q continued, 'I've told you what I do know, so far as you can understand it. You're the Focal Point. You govern destiny by the fact of your very existence. You have appeared here at this time in order to solve a terrible crisis in the history of the universe.'

'But why? And how?' asked Picard. 'What is so special about me?'

'I have no idea,' said Q. 'But the universe, the act of creation, if you will, has imbued you with a nature beyond the ordinary human sphere. No Q can resolve this question. And the most difficult part of it, for us at least, is that the Q are irrevocably tied up in this situation. Let me explain.

'We, the Q, deliberately broke down the walls between this reality and the one from which the Aralla came. Now, I told you that we were doing this as part of humanity's trial. That was not true.'

Picard pursed his lips. 'That never did make sense.'

'The intent was to perform an experiment with the Aralla – the purpose of that experiment is utterly irrelevant now, of course. When we broke the wall between realities, you were propelled along your new course, but that took us by surprise. We suddenly realised what we had begun and as the war progressed, we knew we had to lend a hand.'

'Which is why you gave us the idea of sealing the rift?'

Q nodded. 'It was a deception, designed so that you did not realise what was happening. Once that was accomplished, you had to solve the issue on your own.'

'So eighty billion people died, because you made a mistake, Q?' said Picard acidly.

'That is your concern, not mine,' said Q harshly. 'You already know how deadly the Aralla were, how many more they would have slaughtered had they not been fought. And, as it happened, they nearly accomplished it anyway.'

'Explain to me where the other city destroyers came from, a hundred years ago,' said Picard. 'The one that was just destroyed and the one the Romulans destroyed.'

'They were what you suspected – advance scouts,' replied Q. 'The rift was open for some time before you were born, Jean-Luc. Why did the Aralla not come through before then?' Q shrugged. 'The answer to that question died with them. Was it a coincidence? Was it planned? I don't know.

'Suffice it to say, the Aralla sent two ships through to explore, but they were attacked by the Romulans. One survived, and buried itself on Kiros. The rest you know.'

Picard digested this, pleased to have answered a question which had been niggling at him. It was always good to have one's suspicions confirmed. 'What next?'

'Once the situation had played itself out, we had become deeply concerned about what was happening. We had known, of course, of your nature; but we had not troubled ourselves unduly about it, believing it would not affect us.' Q gave a slightly embarrassed grin. 'You are only human.'

Picard acknowledged the point. 'So what made you worried? We'd destroyed the Aralla – or so we thought – and…' Picard's voice trailed off in thought before he looked up at Q, suddenly understanding. 'What are the problems of mortals to you? You're so far above us that even the total obliteration of a species means nothing to you.'

'That's not completely fair, Jean-Luc,' said Q in a hurt voice. 'We wish nothing but good for the mortal races – indeed, you could consider that humanity has been highly favoured by our presence. Didn't we give you a tactical advantage in your fight with the Borg?'

'A fight that you started!'

'Semantics. If you had run into the Borg when you had originally supposed to, you would not have been able to survive. That is irrelevant, however.' continued Q, 'My point is that your war against the Aralla was purely your affair. If you note, when we provided assistance, it was directed against the rift.'

Picard stood slowly. 'What was it about the rift that scared you?'

At another time, Q would have reacted differently to Picard's tone of voice, much less the accusation that his people had been terrified by the rift. Now however… 'You are aware that the Q have certain powers of prognostication. We can't see into the future as such, but we are able to use what you have seen, the threads of destiny, to observe how events will probably unfold.

'What we saw was beyond any of our worst nightmares, if we had them. All of the threads, without any exception, were ending – today. We had never seen anything like it before. What it spelled was doom for everything – every possible future, all potentialities. At first, we couldn't see why. We did not connect what was going to happen to the rift. It was equally clear from what we could see that what would happen would be sudden.'

'When did you see this?'

'Immediately after you returned to this universe. The very moment we did that, all of destiny shifted towards this new pattern.'

Picard paused for a moment. 'So, because of that simple wish, I nearly destroyed the universe? Oh my god….' He sat down, shocked to the core.

Q regarded him sympathetically. 'I explained to you once how your decisions affected everything around you. That was a consequence of your nature. Had you stayed where you were, things would have been different. How will always be a mystery. In addition, because you returned, you were both the cause of and solution to the crisis. Think about what that means.'

Now Picard understood. All that he had done had fed into greater and larger consequences. While he had fought the Aralla to the death, a greater battle had been taking place through him, one which had been both intimately connected with and apart from his mortal struggle. 'Why?' he whispered.

'The ultimate question,' replied Q softly. He sat again, turned to face Picard. 'I don't know, Jean-Luc. The Q have been players in this drama, it's true, but we have been unwitting agents, rather than knowing controllers. You could accept it all as one great coincidence; I prefer to think of it as proof that there is a dynamic force to the universe, one beyond anything we know.'

Picard buried his head in his hands, suddenly feeling a great and terrible weight bearing down upon him. Before now, he had always worn his supposed status as a decisive factor in the universe's affairs lightly – in truth, he had never really believed it, for all of his agonising over the consequences. He realised now that his refusal to believe had been a terrible fear of the burden this placed upon him.

Now he could no longer deny it. He turned anguished eyes to Q. 'How can I go on? How can I go back, knowing how much uncontrollable momentum my decisions will have? How can I live as an ordinary man?'

'You cannot,' said Q.

Picard stared at him. 'I must. My ship needs me. My crew – my friends need me. I am their captain.'

'No mortal body can cope with what you have seen. No mortal mind can contend with the force required to manipulate destiny.'

Picard recoiled from what Q was saying. He stood in a jolt of movement, striding away from the chair, reflexively rubbing his hands together in an agony of horrible fear. 'I cannot desert my post. I am a Starfleet officer!' He whirled to face Q. 'Send me back _now_!'

'I can't,' replied Q levelly. 'Your nature has asserted itself. The universe –'

'_To hell with the universe_!' spat Picard venomously. 'I will not believe what you want me to believe! I am a man, a human man, nothing more! I want nothing of your destiny and fate!' He strode forward and grabbed Q, hauling the other to his feet. His face was red with anger, but his eyes were pleading. His voice was now a hiss. 'Send me back to the _Enterprise_!'

'No.' The very force of the word, spoken with utter finality like the crack of doom, rocked Picard back onto his heels. He turned, staggered away from Q, stood for a moment in silence. When he spoke, it was in a tortured whisper.

'What have you not told me?'

'When the rift opened, all of time froze,' replied Q. 'All of it, except for one thing – one opposite force that was of the universe but could not be taken by the rift. Your nature meant that you directed, in part, the universe from within. Because you were part of the universe, and yet not fully subject to it, you were protected from the devastation the rift was to cause. But only partially.

'Your mind, your anima or soul – call it what you will – was saved. Able to see the threads, able to control them consciously or otherwise, you were able to interact with and destroy the rift outside of the normal bounds of time. A power utterly beyond a Q.'

Picard's shoulders had slumped. 'But not all of me.'

Q's eyes became saddened. 'Your body is human. A corporeal shell which housed you for a time, and then was abandoned when it could no longer sustain you.' Q hesitated for a moment, unsure as to how to continue. 'I'm very sorry to tell you this, Jean-Luc, although I appreciate you might not believe it. Your body has perished, for it has nothing to animate it any longer. You are dead.'

* * *

As Q had made his solemn pronouncement, Picard felt a chill run through him. For some reason, what Q said made a horrible sort of sense, but he knew all too well what games the being liked to play with his mind. Pulling away from Q, Picard smiled and shook his head. 'I'm not falling for that, Q. Try something better, or send me back to the _Enterprise_ and leave me alone. Even by your standards, that was laughable.' 

Q calmly waited until Picard finished. 'It doesn't matter what you think, Jean-Luc. You will accept it eventually.'

'If I'm dead, why am I here?' retorted Picard scornfully.

'This is where your spirit is meant to be,' replied Q.

'Are you going to tell me you're God again?' said Picard, his voice amused. 'I thought you'd recovered from your delusions.'

Q twitched at that insult, but remained outwardly calm. He knew that this would be difficult for Picard to accept. He could see through Picard's outward bravado, saw through to the fear lying behind it.

For his part, Picard felt almost relieved that his initial fears about what had happened seemed to have dissolved into Q's usual mind games. Annoying though they were, he knew how to deal with them.

'Do you truly understand what has happened here?' said Q after a moment's pause. He saw Picard's default answer approaching his lips and continued, 'I don't mean that the _Enterprise_ is saved, or any of the other things which your limited scope and vision could cope with. What has changed?'

For a moment, Picard heard the far-off whispering again. Concentrating to ignore it, he did not notice Q's slight smile. 'I don't feel that anything has changed,' replied Picard. 'I am the same as I ever was.'

Q adopted a slightly pedantic tone. 'So you feel that the ability to step outside of time; the ability of your mind to perceive multiple coinciding realities; the power of your consciousness to pull the threads of destiny away from one of the most powerful forces ever to exist within the bounds of reality – all of these are things which the everyday man in the holodeck could do?'

Picard didn't answer. Q continued, 'Isn't it also true that a number of strange things have happened to you ever since the rift first opened? Leaving aside the obvious one – your disappearance from this reality and absorption into another reality in which you fought and won a great victory?'

'A victory in a war I did not want,' replied Picard quietly.

'Be that as it may,' said Q, 'the fact is, I explained to you what had happened – what you experienced and _why _you experienced it. All of which feeds into what we are discussing now.'

'We're not discussing anything,' said Picard with irritation. 'You're lecturing me.'

Q ignored him. 'I want you to look back on your memories, Jean-Luc. Tell me what else is strange; what else can you not explain?'

'This is pointless –'

'Indulge me.' Q gave him a knowing look. 'We're not exactly strapped for time, are we?'

Picard sighed in exasperation, but despite himself the wheels had begun to turn. For all of the events that Q meant, he could remember them all with a painful clarity, including many things which he wished he could forget.

He thought back, remembering first the long war against the Aralla. Then his thoughts turned, with a wave of sorrow which still pained him physically, to the violent battle against the Aralla parasite which had infested Admiral Nechayev. And to his own love, passionate, fiery, yet tender and always pure.

And now dead.

A strand of a conversation came back to him. He heard himself saying, '_In the last few days, shortly after our wedding, we realised that the bond was much stronger than it had ever been. I could hear her voice in my mind all the time; understand what she said even when she didn't say it._'

'Rosanna…' Picard whispered. His eyes shone with tears again.

'Sorry?' said Q.

'There is one thing.' Picard spoke slowly, almost afraid to broach the subject. 'When I returned from the alternative universe, I began to feel... an attachment to Rosanna Thames, a lieutenant aboard my ship. As time went on, this attachment deepened, and became love.'

'Yes,' replied Q quietly. 'I am aware of all of this. You married her in the alternative universe after the war, and when you came back, you relived that experience.'

Picard nodded absently, but his mind was now elsewhere, not listening to Q any longer. His mind roved back, almost unwillingly, back to the days leading up to the murder of Rosanna Thames. Sorrow, bitter despair and horror arose up within him again. This time, he did not reject them. Slowly, he said, 'When Rosanna died, I felt something die within me. I killed Admiral Nechayev out of a desire for vengeance, driven by rage and grief. I was broken, destroyed. How did I come back?'

'I was there,' said Q quietly. 'Your empath may have mentioned that Ambassador Spock visited you and cured you?' At Picard's nod, Q continued, 'In point of fact, it was I. I came to you, wiped your memories and erected a barrier between your conscious mind and the pain which devastated it. It was the only way.'

'Why did it break?'

Q sighed. 'You must remember, Jean-Luc, that we were aware of the existence and destiny of the rift when this all happened. We knew that now you would have to face it and destroy it or all of existence was doomed. We could not risk you being incapacitated when it was time. I made sure that under the right circumstances, the barriers would begin to fall and your memories would reassert themselves.'

Picard could not feel angry at being manipulated. Indeed, he was struggling to feel anything at that moment, so overwhelmed was he by all the new information. 'So my feelings for Anij were the trigger for this to begin.' He sighed. 'That tallies with what I know to be true.'

Picard dropped his head into his hands. The concepts being touched upon were almost too big for him to consider. One man had been chosen, by fate or whatever you want to call it, to become an elemental force, containing within himself the capacity to confront, manipulate and ultimately overpower a destructive force capable of destroying every possibility that could be imagined.

'It is almost beyond belief,' the human murmured. 'How can a human mind or a mortal spirit be the receptacle for so much power? Is it possible?'

'All life begins from the smallest building blocks,' replied Q. 'Can an amoeba contain the energy that is required to fuel the millions of interactions which take place within the human mind? No. What is required is a transition – one which takes place over millions of years from small puddle in a rocky crevice to captain of an interstellar space vessel.

'In your case, you are the product of those millions of years of evolution, your genetic heritage proceeding to the exact time and place where your existence was needed by the universe. At this point in your evolution, humans are subconsciously able to direct the power within you without truly understand what lies behind it. In your particular case, you had access to a power far greater than any normal human has ever, and probably will ever, hold. But that power was too great for the mortal shell your soul inhabited.'

'You make it sound as if there was an overseeing presence behind it,' said Picard.

Q shrugged. 'Maybe there is. That is a question I cannot answer – except to say that it was not us. At first, we thought we had directed you, but as time drew on, we realised that there was something deeper manipulating us.'

Something was bothering Picard about Q's use of the word "us". 'Who is "us"? The Q Continuum?'

Q glanced past Picard. 'Not exactly.'

There was a soft footstep behind Picard. He turned swiftly, knowing that he was ready for anything.

Almost anything.

Rosanna Thames stood before him, clad as he had last seen her in the flesh, wearing her Starfleet uniform, science blue sticking out from above the dark grey. She stood as if unsure of herself, almost hanging back from him.

Picard stared at her for a long, long moment, feeling only that his blood seemed to have turned to ice in his veins, shock coursing through his mind. His mouth had become instantly dry and all thoughts of destiny, Q or life and death had been utterly driven from his mind. Eventually, his mind engaged long to stutter, 'How?'

'This is where I belong, Jean-Luc,' said Thames slowly. She took a hesitant step forward, obviously as overwhelmed as Picard was. Her eyes glistened.

'But you're dead,' murmured Picard. He too stepped towards her. 'I saw you die….'

'I know,' whispered Rosanna. 'I'm so sorry I had to leave you….'

Picard hesitated. As much as he did not wish to, he turned and looked at Q. 'If this is a trick, Q –'

'No trick,' said Q solemnly. 'Rosanna is her own person, and nothing to do with me.'

Picard turned back to face Thames. 'Is it you?' he asked, trying keep his voice level.

She nodded slowly. 'Yes, Jean-Luc. I am here and it is me.'

Picard could not hold back. He rushed forward, caught her up in his arms in the most passionate embrace he could muster, feeling nothing but her arms wrapped around him, and then his lips touching hers in a deep kiss, fierce and violent like a long doused fire which blazes into new life; soft and gentle like the flow of tears from their eyes which mingled and became one.

At the same time, Picard felt something blaze back into life within his mind. A fire raged in his consciousness, allowing a flood of feelings and thoughts not his own to crash against the shores of his spirit. The silver cord which linked him to Rosanna Thames like nothing else could became whole again. In that moment, he was utterly assured that she was really his long lost love. He felt the incandescent glow of her love and joy, experienced the radiance which shone about her and lit up his life like nothing else ever could.

Suddenly, he understood everything. In a moment of epiphany, he saw all that had happened, understood the reasons behind it all. He saw the truths behind the lies. He could truly and fully appreciate the terrible scale of the events which had taken place and the fears which had driven the Q into the actions they had felt were necessary.

Jean-Luc Picard slowly released his wife, feeling the unrestrained joy flowing through them both. He wiped the tears from his eyes, smiling uncontrollably as Rosanna did the same. 'I think I understand now,' he said slowly. 'I was driven insane by the link being broken. It was never healed.' He turned and looked at his wife with a grin of sheer delight. 'I think this is the first time I have felt truly whole for many years.'

'It could never be healed,' said Q. Picard suddenly noticed that even he was smiling. 'Something utterly unique is easy to destroy, but far harder to remake. Until now, we could not be sure that it would be restored.'

Rosanna took Picard's hand in hers. 'I was sure, Q.'

Picard held her hand tightly, feeling a sense of giddy elation building within him and knowing that Rosanna felt the same. He still had a few questions.

Rosanna pre-empted the question, hearing it as soon as the delicate yet powerful link was re-established. 'You must have thought that there was something different, Jean-Luc. You are not one to simply fall head over heels in love with someone at first sight.'

'But I did with you. I saw something in you which made me love you, but I never truly understood what it was.'

'Dangerous territory, Jean-Luc,' said Q with a grin.

'I've seen visions of you,' said Picard, ignoring Q. 'Ever since the _Enterprise_ left the Ba'ku, I've seen your face; heard your voice.'

Rosanna began to tear up again and Picard felt through the link her sorrow intermingling with the joy. 'I could never leave you, my love. I could always see you, but I had such tight controls placed upon me that I was not permitted to contact you directly. When you were in your worst distress, I was being restrained from going to you by the Q. They were right – it would have ruined everything. Indeed, the only time I ever managed to break away long enough was when I appeared to you in your quarters.'

'Unnecessarily melodramatic,' commented Q acerbically. He was roundly ignored again.

'I heard you talking sometimes – did you know?'

Rosanna nodded. 'There were times when our link began to reform; I felt it too. But we were always separated by much more than space and time. When we were both mortal, we could touch and experience each other's love. When my mortal body died, we could not see or touch each other. I knew it had to come, but even I was unprepared for the terrible loneliness which afflicted both of us.'

'What do you mean, you knew it had to come?' said Picard warily.

'Rosanna is Q,' said Q bluntly, putting himself back into the conversation, sick of being ignored, being the attention hog that he was. 'She is one of my kind. She was privy to all of the knowledge we had and shared.'

Surprised, Picard looked at his wife again, feeling through the silver cord that it was indeed true. 'Was this another plan to manipulate me?'

Rosanna shook her head, but looked to Q. 'I think you should tell him, Q.' Her voice held a note of mischievousness.

Q sighed theatrically. 'No, as much as I would have liked it to be. The Q have generally been very isolationist. Even my first appearance to you to order you to cease and desist was bitterly argued by the Continuum until I decided to go ahead alone. We had made a conscious decision not to get involved in the affairs of lesser races. Whether that was a good decision or not is open to interpretation.

'But, because we are individuals, we are all open to our own choices,' he continued. 'You know some of the ones I made.'

'I know they caused you and the Q Continuum a vast amount of trouble,' said Picard.

Q didn't look abashed, but carried on. 'Some others, who also knew what was to come, decided they wished to help the lesser races by more subtle means. One of those was Rosanna.'

'I knew what was to come, but I did not understand what surrounded it,' said Rosanna, taking up the story. 'The Q had forbidden us to get involved, but I did not want to passively sit by and hope it all worked out. So I… got involved.'

'So you decided not to use your powers?' asked Picard, knowing as soon as he asked the question that he was wrong.

Rosanna shook her head. 'I saw you when you were born, Jean-Luc. I saw your destiny, knew what you were from the first moment I saw you. All the Q did – we were both fascinated and terrified by you; by the power within you. But I fell in love.' She gripped his hand tighter, fixing him with a gaze more intense than anything he had been exposed to before. 'I watched you grow, learning yourself and your mind. I watched you become a man. I fell in love with the soul behind the man's eyes. You said to me once that you felt as if you had known me all of your life, that you felt we were soul mates. That is because we are. All of your life, I have been with you – never interfering, always watching.'

'Why did you never tell me?' asked Picard.

'Because I couldn't,' replied Rosanna and carried on quickly to forestall his next comment, 'not because I was ordered not to, but because I was physically incapable of doing so.'

Picard frowned. 'Did they do something to you?'

'No,' she replied. 'I did it to myself. I once mentioned to you that I had been badly hurt as a child.'

'Yes,' replied Picard. 'In a shuttle accident.'

Rosanna nodded. 'Rosanna Thames was seven at the time. She was a bright young girl, but not especially so. She was doted on by her parents, but had absolutely no interest in joining Starfleet.'

'You are saying this in a past tense,' said Picard, feeling oddly uncomfortable with the way in which the conversation was going.

'That's right. She had been taken by her parents to China to see the Great Wall on her birthday. On the trip back, there was a mistake made by the controllers on the shuttle run over the timings. The pilot managed to pull out of a collision with another shuttle, but in doing so was forced to crash-land near Karachi. Her parents and the pilot were unhurt, but Rosanna was hit by a damaged support pylon and suffered severe internal injuries. They were unable to get her to a hospital in time before she died.'

Picard looked horrified. 'Then what are you?'

If she was offended by the look on Picard's face, Rosanna did not show it. 'At the point of death, there is a release of consciousness, as if a prison is being opened and those incarcerated within are being freed. At that moment, I was there. I joined myself with the escaping consciousness, breathing new life into it and returning to the expiring body as part of Rosanna's soul, the two of us mingled together. I saved her life, gave her new chances she would not have had. But she was not the same person – instead, she was a blending of the Q essence of my spirit and what she had once been. Before that day, there were two beings. Now there is one.'

Rosanna pressed closer to Picard, who did not know quite how to react. 'Since that day, _I_ have been Rosanna Thames. Not the girl who nearly died before she had a chance to live, nor the immortal being that fused itself with her to give her life, but a melding of the two. And I did not know until after I had died what I had done. I lost all of my powers; all of my knowledge; all of my memories of who we once were. There was one thing which I did retain – my knowledge of who you were and what I felt for you. That was why I joined Starfleet; why I requested posting aboard the _Enterprise. _It was all driven towards the one goal – being with you. In the end, that was the reason I died.'

Picard shook his head slightly and drew away from her for a moment, unable to comprehend what Rosanna was telling him. 'Why her?'

Rosanna smiled at him. 'I don't truly know. It was an impulse – had I had time to stop and consider it, I probably would not have done it. Indeed, had the Q realised what I was doing, they would probably have stepped in and stopped me.'

'It had never been done before,' interjected Q, 'and it never will be again. When she returned to us after her body was killed, we punished her severely, but she insisted that she had done the right thing. Even worse, we did not recognise her any longer – she was not the same as she was when she joined with Rosanna Thames.'

'If you were Q, why did you die?' said Picard, anguish in his voice.

Rosanna reached out to him again, touching his arm, speaking gently and softly. 'I told you, Jean-Luc. When I walked among you as a woman, a _human_ woman, I was _truly_ human, unable to remember a past where I had been anything but. There wasn't anything of me that was wholly Q. I could not access the strength and power we all have because we exist outside of many physical rules that apply to those who need bodies. I had a physical body. I could not have done, even had I known I could.

She deep into Picard's eyes, sorrowful. 'I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave you. But I could not stop what did happen. Once I had died, my spirit that was Q ascended back to its old position, but I never lost that aspect of me that had been born human and with which I had joined.

'But part of you already knows this,' added Rosanna. 'You sometimes said I had a glow surrounding me. Maybe your subconscious could see the deeper truth surrounding my mortal form.'

Picard stared at her for a moment. That was true, he mused. From the moment he had first seen her, he had known there was something very different about her. He _had_ been able to see a radiance about her, one which he could see now. Slowly, his mind began to accept what she had told him. His human part still dwelt on the difficult concept that the body of the woman he loved had been taken over by another being, but the aspect of his psyche which was separate from that acknowledged the fact that the Q being had saved a life and, in essence, had created a new being from the ashes of a dead mind.

'The link,' he said slowly. 'That is a by-product of our dual unique natures. Because I am the Focal Point and you are a Q which blended with a human to produce a new being, something has happened when we have united.'

Rosanna nodded. 'As Q said, it is unique, and therefore it is unexplained. I think it is for us to do the explaining.'

Picard reached out to her and gripped her by the shoulders. 'Thank you for telling me the truth. I still love you.' He took her into his arms, a loving smile upon his face. 'I am glad I can be with you again.'

'For eternity, my love,' she replied softly into his chest. 'Thank you for trusting me.'

Picard released her from his grip. His soul was now at peace. He turned eyes which saw anew for the first time upon Q. 'Does this mean I am Q?'

'In a sense,' replied Q. 'We use it as a catch-all term for all those who have ascended to this level of existence within our universe. The Continuum is the plane on which we reside. Some of us are ancient beings which moved through the levels of evolution in much the same way as humanity is doing now. Some are beings who have ascended to this plane through their own personal development. You can think of yourself as Q, but really we only use the term so that the primitive minds can grasp the concept of our existence. In reality, you are what you want to be.'

Picard understood now what Q meant. As a human, he had not been able to grasp such a radically different concept that the Q provided, but released from his body, he now began to grasp what it was that it truly could be. 'Will you help me?'

Q shook his head. 'I suspect we may never meet again, Jean-Luc. The Q Continuum as you have known it is coming to an end. There have been many new developments since we began interacting with mortals again, and we are only now grasping the opportunities which these provide. You have a new path to tread which is all your own – learning what you can do and where it can take you. No, your guide will be Rosanna. I have now fulfilled my role in your story. It is time for you to start another.'

He stepped forward and took Picard's hand. 'I know this is what humans do when they greet each other and when they say farewell. We have not been friends, but I hope that I have been able to express to you a wider vision of what is possible. Use and remember that vision always, Jean-Luc Picard.

'Also, remember all that I have shown you. I showed you from the earliest time how to view and understand the wonders around you; showed you their dangers, but also the opportunities to be grasped within. Remember all of it, however painful and hard the memories may be.'

Unexpectedly, Picard felt himself saddened as he looked at Q for the last time. He looked back on all that Q had shown him, from the first time they had met, through all of the trials and battles they had fought with each other. Finally he understood that a bigger picture had always overlaid whatever Q had done. Now that he was no longer limited in his scope, he could truly begin to explore that as he had never done before. And, with that, he let go of the last lingering resentment which he had ever felt towards the being before him, so different, and yet, so similar. 'Thank you, Q.'

Q smiled, and as he did so, he began to change. His human form melted away and in his place pure light shone, shimmering and dancing, vital in a way Picard could never have appreciated before. 'Farewell,' echoed the voice of his long time nemesis. 'May your journey be as joyful after death as before.'

Then Q was gone.

Picard stared for a moment at the place where he had been before turning to Rosanna. 'You know, I'm sad he's gone now. I understand what he was trying to do.'

'He always was annoying and patronising,' she replied with a trace of fondness in her voice, 'but I always think he appreciated your unorthodox style.'

Picard smiled at the thought. 'What now?'

'What do you want to do?'

Picard thought for a moment, and suddenly something he had put from his mind came back to him. His face became serious. 'We are no longer human,' he said, 'but we both have an attachment to something greater than ourselves.'

Rosanna nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. 'The _Enterprise_.'

'My friends,' acknowledged Picard. 'I want to see them.'

* * *

First Officer's log: Stardate 55178.4 – After completing a number of diagnostic tests and minor repairs, the _Enterprise_ is ready to get underway again. It has been eighteen hours since…. I have informed Admiral Drayton. By now, probably all of Starfleet knows. We are all stunned. There is no other way to describe it. One moment, I stood beside him and the next…. Deanna is with Beverly now. Understandably, she has taken this the hardest of all of us. I've ordered… the body to be placed in stasis until we reach Earth. What more is there I can do? It feels as though the _Enterprise_ herself is in mourning. 

Riker stabbed the off button on his monitor viciously and buried his head in his hands. He had been able to maintain a business-like professional tone to his voice while making his log recording, however hard it had been, but now he felt the pressure of his emotions overwhelming him again.

There was a soft bleep as his comm unit came active again. 'Bridge to Commander Riker.'

Riker noted the subdued tone of Ghia Hedly's voice. 'Riker here.'

'Sir, I have Commander Ratek wishing to speak to you.'

Riker sighed. There was always more business to take care of. 'Put him through.'

Ratek's face appeared on Riker's screen. 'Commander Riker, thank you for taking the time to speak to me. I understand how hard a time this is for you.'

Riker nodded gratefully to the Romulan. 'What can I do you for you, sir?'

'I am ordering the fleet to disband and return to our side of the Neutral Zone. I have communicated the events to Romulus. Praetor Neral wishes me to extend to you, the crew of the _Enterprise_ and all of Starfleet our deepest condolences on behalf of the Romulan Star Empire. I understand that the Praetor is currently communicating the same to your President.'

Riker looked surprised for a moment before acknowledging Ratek's gracious words. 'I thank you on behalf of the United Federation of Planets,' he replied formally, not knowing what else to say.

'In addition,' continued Ratek, 'I have asked for, and been granted, leave from my government to allow the _G'gerithau_ to accompany your taskforce back to Earth as an honour guard in Captain Picard's memory. I feel that he has been able to bring your people and mine closer together than any other in our histories. I would very much like to be there when you lay him to rest.'

Riker stared, amazed at the Romulan's candour. He had forgotten, like so many others, how much Romulans gave over to their emotions. It made them a passionate people, deliberately opposing themselves to the reserve and denial of their Vulcan cousins. But they affected a similar reserve when they were among aliens, often giving rise to the belief that they were humourless and cold. Even experienced Starfleet officers such as he were often taken by surprise when Romulans gave vent to their true feelings.

'I will speak to Starfleet Command on your behalf,' replied Riker. 'Obviously, I cannot approve this myself, but rest assured I will support this move strongly.'

Ratek smiled. 'Thank you, Commander Riker. I appreciate your help. Again, my condolences. _G'gerithau_ out.'

Riker leaned back in his chair as Ratek's face vanished. For a moment, he felt his spirits lifted by Ratek's friendliness, but his positive feelings were short-lived. He thought about his ship, his crew, now looking to him for leadership. He knew he could lead, was ready to be captain – but not here, not in this way. Could he lead them past the death of their captain?

Could he lead himself past the death of his friend and mentor?

At this moment, William Riker did not know the answer.

* * *

The bridge of the _Enterprise_ was a quiet place. Normally filled with the chatter of reports and the gentle buzz of efficient busy activity, now it was silent, the only sounds being those of the instruments which continually spoke, unheeding of life or death, sorrow or joy. 

Even so, Data thought, it still seemed as if even the bright lights and sounds were muted and dull, knowing that their master had left them for the last time. He also knew, somewhere in his mind, that what he thought was an imaginary sensation, but it was something he appreciated.

Having been granted his greatest wish of feeling human emotions without recourse to the aid of an emotion chip which could be deactivated or removed whenever the fancy took him, Data was now having to come to terms with the opposite side of humanity; the side that felt sorrow, pain and grief.

He had been fully emotionally aware and active for less than a week. In human terms, he was barely even a babe in arms. And yet, within that time, he had seen the full range of feeling from joy to utter despair.

Now he sat in the command position, less than a metre from where Captain Picard's body had fallen. Occasionally, he would steal a furtive glance at the point on the deck where Beverly Crusher had knelt by his side and quietly pleaded, in a low tone of voice so calm it had terrified the android, for the captain to come back and not leave her.

When Commander Riker had gently moved her away, she had cast a look around the bridge which had sent shivers through Data. It was so bleak and bereft of anything but bitter and terrible grief that it had been all he could do to not cry out and turn away.

And now, even though he knew intellectually that such feelings would pass with time and that he would grow and accept them as part of himself, Data cursed silently the fate which had given him the desire to become more human, to feel such pain as he felt now, and tried to force what he now experienced away from his active mind.

It was a bitter irony, he mused, that one of the first things he tried to do with the real emotions which he had waited so long for was force them away….

* * *

Geordi La Forge moved slowly around his beloved engines, watching them with his mechanical eyes, ones which recorded and monitored every single fluctuation in the flow of energy, the changes in the interaction between matter and anti-matter, right down to imperfections in the metal casing of the giant warp core. 

It was so strange that he could detect such minute problems with artificial materials and yet not see that there was a flesh and blood problem with his own captain, a man he counted among his closest friends for so many reasons.

Geordi was an engineer, by inclination as much as it was his chosen path in Starfleet. But his first steps had been taken in the field of navigation – a talent Geordi had in spades. But it had been Picard who had seen his abilities in Engineering, a pursuit that La Forge found much more rewarding.

Now he could not help but feel that he had failed his captain. His mind worried around the unanswered questions, open wounds in the collective psyche of the _Enterprise_ crew.

What had caused him to die? Why was he gone?

Why had his friends not been able to see it?

Geordi was no doctor, but he knew that no-one died for no reason at all. Unless there was something else behind what had happened, something no-one knew about, there was a deep mystery behind his captain's death. As an engineer, it offended his personal pride that he could not see the reason, could not understand the method by which it had happened.

Past that, it horrified him beyond words that he had lost a close and dear friend without even knowing why and what for. A gaping hole had been left in their lives, and nothing could be the same again.

But to Geordi, his mind might never be at ease unless there was an answer to the simple question – why?

* * *

Deanna Troi turned away from Beverly's bed, satisfied that the sedative she had applied to the doctor's arm had taken effect. It had been Beverly's wish – she had been utterly devastated and exhausted beyond endurance, and she had eventually whispered that all she wanted to do was sleep. 

Troi had heard the hidden plea within Beverly's request, but could not heed it. She cared too much for her friend.

Now the doctor slept. Slowly, feeling stiffness through her limbs after being sat by Beverly's side for nearly five hours, Troi stood and stretched.

Her mind stretched as well. As part of her skills as Ship's Counsellor, Troi had to be able to shield her mind from the feelings of all of the other minds around her, however distant they might be, and focus on the feelings of one individual for as long as they needed her. She was very skilled in this.

Now, however, she found it very hard indeed. Waves of shock and horror swept throughout the _Enterprise_, followed by sorrow, anger and disbelief. All of the crew mourned their lost captain, a mourning made even worse by being so utterly unexpected. Even when someone was killed in action, such as during the Dominion War, there was always the unspoken knowledge informing all that such an event was a possibility.

But to have died on the bridge, in full view of everyone, without cause or even a mark to explain why….

Like Geordi, Troi was very concerned about what had happened. No-one had noticed anything happen. The Captain had given the order, Data had carried it out, and the rift had vanished instantly. All had been well, aside from the fact that Picard's body had fallen to the deck as if it had suddenly been emptied.

Unlike Geordi, Troi had an idea, however vague, of what she had felt. It had all taken place in one brief flicker of a moment, barely slow enough for the senses to register that it had happened.

When the captain had fallen, the last emotions she had sensed from him had been a sense of triumph, one which was overwhelmed almost immediately by shock and then fear. She was deeply troubled by that sensation, one of a terror that was almost beyond reasoning.

But that was not all – at the very last, the tiniest last emotion which his mind had processed, had been joy. Joy beyond words.

Then he had gone.

Troi found her eyes tearing blindly as she opened herself to her sorrow. In a way which she knew all others had been denied, she had a tiny inkling of what had awaited for Jean-Luc Picard on the other side of the great divide which mortals called death. She would grieve in her own way for a while, and then she would take on the task that she knew fell to her alone – to help her friends understand what she had felt and help them understand that the pain and grief was natural – they needed to feel it and not be frightened by it, and to move on.

But for now, she would do the same for herself. She whispered a Betazoid prayer for his departed soul, and headed from the room, leaving Beverly behind her. In the deepest corner of her mind, Deanna knew that she probably could do nothing for her friend. Her sorrow was too deep and too personal for any other to feel – or to share.

* * *

Picard stood silently by Beverly's bedside, gazing down upon her, his expression utterly unreadable. Rosanna stood a little way off, unwilling to approach him. 

He thought about reaching down to Beverly, to touch and to wake her, but he knew that would not be wise – would only make the pain more unbearable. 'What can I do?' His voice was quiet, but intense with anguish. A few moments before, he had been joyful in the acceptance of his death, forgetting those who had been left behind. 'How can I help? Can I remove their pain, their memories?'

Rosanna shook her head. 'Q only did that to you because you had a destiny which could not be avoided, and because one of his own had gotten so involved that he had to fix a problem which might not have occurred otherwise. For these, we cannot. They must face it in their own way.'

Picard nodded, understanding, but not happy. He could not reach out; he could not touch them, give them reassurance and his compassion as was his duty. When Tasha had died, he had been able to help his crew through the shock by being the captain – in many respects, that was all he could do. But it was enough for them at the time.

Now that duty would devolve onto Riker. Picard had no doubts that his old friend was up to the challenge – but what his captain had seen was a man badly shaken by the loss and not yet mentally ready for the burden which had suddenly fallen onto him. He knew Riker would be a great captain and leader of men, but at this moment, he needed a last moment of support from his friend and mentor – something which a dead man could not give him.

'I can't abandon them, Rosanna.' His voice was firm and clear. 'Q said we would be creating our own path. This is where I start. We are both still human to an extent, with human feelings and frailties. My crew needs me, one last time. Then it will truly be over.'

Rosanna came to him and smiled. 'I would not have expected anything else from the man I love.'


	21. Loose Ends

_Chapter XXI_

A personal shuttle swooped down from the grey English skies towards a plot of land a few miles outside of Worcester. It touched lightly down a few hundred metres from the large country house, outside the front door of which stood a lone figure.

Admiral Drayton stepped out of the shuttle onto the soft lawn and took a deep breath before heading towards the house.

Paul Thames watched impassively as the lonely figure wearing the Starfleet uniform approached. He remembered a day much like this one, when the same man had walked up to the house and told him that his only daughter was dead, bare weeks after her wedding.

Back then, he had not been able to get any more information from Starfleet, told only to be quiet and never speak of it. Paul had been given the impression that to do so would carry terrible consequences. Reluctantly, he and his wife had obeyed.

Rosanna's body had been borne home by two of Picard's officers, Troi and Riker. Paul had said his grief-stricken farewell to his daughter and watched her brief funeral and burial alone, refusing to let the Starfleet officers be present. His wife, Andrea, had been unable to face it.

Paul had seen in Troi and Riker's eyes that something truly terrible had happened, but when he had tried to find out from them, they also refused to tell him.

Paul had accepted, when his daughter had joined Starfleet, that there was the possibility that this day might come. Like any rational person, he had pretended it never would happen, but intellectually he had been able to understand.

But the pain had never gone away. Every day since Rosanna's burial, Paul had wondered what had really happened out there amongst the stars; why it was that his daughter's husband had never spoken to either himself or his wife since the wedding.

Andrea had become a virtual recluse, mourning her daughter and unable to let go of the grief. Paul had managed to carry on, but he suffered from terrible periods of bleak depression and sorrow. But the worst feeling of all was the burning rage he felt towards Starfleet, focused now on the approaching figure of Admiral Drayton.

'Mr Thames,' said Drayton warily.

'Admiral,' replied Paul coldly as he leant against the door frame of his house. 'I will not say that is good to see you.'

Drayton nodded, understanding the reason for the unfriendly greeting. 'Would it be possible to step inside? I have something I need to tell you.'

'Is it as good news as you brought last time, Admiral?'

Drayton fixed Paul Thames with a hard stare. 'The reason I am here is to inform you that two days ago, Captain Jean-Luc Picard was killed in action in the Neutral Zone.'

Paul Thames straightened when he heard that, shock crossing his face. 'I'm very sorry to hear that. I never blamed Jean-Luc for Rosanna's death.'

'That is why I am here,' replied Drayton. He passed Paul the padd. 'When Lieutenant Thames died, I was forced to hide the reasons for it in order to protect Jean-Luc. Now he is dead, there is no longer any reason to do so. I can't give you every last detail – some of that information died with Jean-Luc; and, to be honest, even having heard it and having lived through it, I'm still not certain that I can believe some of it. But I will tell you everything I can – and I apologise for not being able to explain before today. Hopefully, when you have heard what I have to say, then you may be able to understand why I have done what I had to do.'

'I'll get Andrea,' said Paul, moving aside to admit Drayton to the house.

'I think that would be wise,' replied the admiral, as he entered the building.

Outside, for the next few hours, light drizzle fell across the beautiful English countryside, mimicking the tears which fell inside the house.

* * *

Many light years away on Romulus, another shuttle broke through cloud cover to descend silently towards a large building on the edge of the capital city. This shuttle, unlike the one which had carried Admiral Drayton, was accompanied by four others – a clear sign of the magnitude of their mission. 

As the modified shuttles, which were designed to move silently and be undetectable, touched down, from each one spilled a full squad of Romulan and Reman troops, armed to the teeth. Moving quickly, they surrounded the building.

Inside that building, which was an apartment block for senior officials associated with the Romulan civil service, the security guards at the door opened the building under orders from the soldiers standing outside. Then two squads moved into the building, disruptors out, moving cautiously and silently, as the security guards fell back, deeply concerned by the nature of what they had admitted to the building.

These were the Praetorian Guard, the elite shock troops commanded personally by the Praetor of the Romulan Empire. They were hunting now for one who had betrayed the Romulan people.

Another shuttle hovered some distance away, this one more elaborate and better outfitted than the troop shuttles. In it, three men, two standing, one seated, watched as from one of the windows in the apartment complex a bright white light exploded with the force of a miniature sun, followed by a short burst of green light.

One of the figures tapped the seated figure on the shoulder. The pilot triggered the landing program in the shuttle's memory.

As it glided down to rest between two of the troop shuttles, the squads of troops emerged, two of them dragging an unconscious figure. The two watchers emerged from the shuttle and waited as the troops approached, saluted and then unceremoniously dumped the captive before them.

Praetor Neral looked down at the unconscious face of Chairman Koval with a certain satisfaction before nodding to the troop leader. 'Excellent work, Commander,' he said. 'Take him and prepare him for interrogation.'

'Yes, sir,' was the terse reply. Koval's body was hoisted up under the shoulders and loaded into one of the shuttles. After the soldiers had boarded, they launched and headed away from the city, out into the dark countryside.

Neral looked at the other man. 'You have the thanks of the Romulan Empire for this act of generosity, Admiral.'

'You have all of the required proof,' replied Admiral Delnar. 'The Tal Shiar will probably take some convincing.'

Neral nodded, indicating that they should re-enter the shuttle. 'Once the Tal Shiar has been convinced, they will want to… speak to Chairman Koval themselves. For that privilege, they will need to pay a high price. When they made their mistake of allying covertly with the Cardassian Enabran Tain to attack the Dominion, they were not punished enough. For allowing a traitor such as Koval to become head of their organisation, I will break them once and for all. Like yourselves, we cannot allow the existence of a separate organisation above the law outside of the direct control of government.'

'I'm glad to hear it, sir,' replied Delnar non-committally. Privately, he had some doubts about the willingness of the Romulans to truly crack down on the activities of the Tal Shiar. But he had his orders, and he knew that Admiral Rynar was very much in favour of this action.

Their shuttle took off, but followed a different path from the troop shuttles. Instead, they angled straight into the sky until they broke through the cloud cover and headed into space. Before them rested the bright star of the USS _Prometheus_, dispatched directly from the Neutral Zone to convey the two dignitaries to Earth. There was one last task to be performed.

* * *

Five days later, the day shone bright and clear, a cold winter's morning in early February. Snow had fallen the night before, lending a crunch to the step and sharpness to the air breathed by all those gathered around the small chapel. 

Over the rolling plains like a sea of white, coursing towards the great ancient city in the distance, the mourners could see the delicate spire of the Eiffel Tower, reminding them of the heritage of the man whose death they came to acknowledge and whose life they came to celebrate.

A long line of soberly dressed men and women stretched along the gravel path leading to the cemetery just outside of the small town of LaBarre. These people, humans, Vulcans, Romulans, Klingons and many other races, all gathered now in the cold to honour one man. Enemies and friends, allies and acquaintances now all gathered together, united in their admiration for Jean-Luc Picard.

This was an event for luminaries of all races to attend – as was inevitable, not all were purely there to commemorate the death of a Starfleet captain. Even when death has taken one so regarded, life and business still continued. Diplomats would observe the formalities and would go through the motions, all the while using the opportunity to network and renew their contacts.

These cynical thoughts rang through Will Riker's mind as he observed the line of people from the relative warmth of the cockpit of the shuttlecraft hovering overhead. It wasn't absolutely fair, he knew. Many, if not all, of the people gathered below were genuine mourners to a certain extent. Since the _Enterprise's_ return to Earth, the death and funerary arrangements of Captain Jean-Luc Picard had been front page news across the planet and, indeed, across much of the Federation. Riker doubted that his captain had been truly aware of the depth of admiration in which he was held across the Federation.

He turned from the window to regard his fellows. The close-knit band of friends had gathered together one last time to say farewell to their captain. Attired as Riker was in full dress uniform, they prepared to accompany their captain on his last journey. In addition to the senior officers of the _Enterprise,_ excepting Beverly Crusher, Miles O'Brien and Worf had also joined their former crewmates. Each now was alone with his or her thoughts, but Riker knew that, like him, each of them would have devoted a moment's thought to those who could not be with them at this time.

Riker felt the motors of the shuttle kick in again as it prepared to begin landing procedure. 'Honour guard,' he said quietly, rousing them all from their reveries. They all took their positions around the coffin which rested in the middle of the shuttle's deck, draped with the emblem of the Federation.

Beverly Crusher stood outside the small chapel and watched as the shuttle came in for its final landing. She wiped away a tear from her eye. It was strange, she thought, that she had shed so many tears already in the week since Jean-Luc had died and still she had more. She felt so empty inside that she could not believe that there was anything left.

After the first two horrifying days, during which she had not been able to leave her quarters, Beverly had plucked up the courage, with Troi's help, to walk down to the sickbay and view the body.

For a long moment, she had stood and stared at his face, peaceful but utterly inhuman now his spirit had fled, before sealing up the stasis tube and asking to see the autopsy. Since that day, she not permitted herself any outward displays of emotion, knowing that she would need all of her reserve to carry her through this day.

Most of the senior officers had come to see her at least once, especially Troi and, surprisingly, Data. But Riker himself had only come the once, for a short word about the funeral proceedings. Of course, she hadn't wished to be part of the honour guard, which Riker had anticipated.

But Beverly had stopped him for a moment and had looked deep into his eyes. In his soul, Beverly saw the same suffering which she also felt, the same lack of will to do what needed to be done. The same, intense, raw pain.

But there was nothing either of them could do for the other. Riker had impulsively reached out and embraced her for a long moment, and Beverly had felt his strong love and friendship for her encompassing her. She drew from his strength for a moment, and then they had let each other go and moved on.

She hadn't seen Will since then.

The shuttle landed, and slowly the back door dropped down as a ramp, allowing Will Riker to step onto the Earth and signal for the honour guard to make their way out behind him, bearing the long wooden coffin of Jean-Luc Picard.

Riker led the procession at a slow march down the gravel path from the landing site, through the crowd of mourners. Troi, Data, O'Brien, Worf, La Forge and Hedly followed behind, carefully supporting their captain on his final journey.

As he marched, Riker was able to see who was in the crowd around him. The most obvious people were the massive Starfleet contingent – almost every senior officer in the fleet had made it back – certainly the entire Admiralty. He could see Admirals Delnar, Drayton, and the newly minted C in C, Admiral Rynar of Barzan. More faces than Riker could see, all of whom seemed to recognise him and all of whom recognised what had been lost with a silent, grave look of acknowledgement.

There were many high-up diplomats, Riker also saw. For one, the President of the Federation, but also many of the leaders of the governments throughout the quadrant and their retinues. Here was Praetor Neral, here Chancellor Martok, there Grand Nagus Rom – and so many others whom Riker did not know. Behind them, the official mourners, delegated by their individual governments to convey their own best wishes. The procession continued.

Now, closer, there were the friends of Captain Picard – a contingent almost as large as the other two put together. Now he saw genuine sorrow on their faces – many were Picard's close friends, crew who had served with him for long periods. He saw Janice Manheim, Phillipa Louvois, who was now the new Attorney General at Starfleet Command, and Admiral Marta Batanides, his old friend from Academy days.

Closest to the chapel were the inner circle, the closest friends and family. His sister-in-law Marie stood by the door beside Guinan, Beverly Crusher and also Anij, who had brought a diplomatic delegation from the Ba'ku, but who also stood alone to honour a man she had loved.

Riker also noted, with a certain surprise, the presence of Paul and Andrea Thames, who both looked a little shaken, but also with an inner peace that Riker had not seen in them before.

Slowly, the honour guard manoeuvred into the chapel, whereupon Riker heard the music that floated through the air like a phantom, invisible but always present. The piece was more than 800 years old, by an Italian composer named Albinoni, an Adagio for strings and organ. In it, Riker heard his sorrows expressed and given wordless voice, but with an affirming aspect to it, as if the strings played over the organ part gave notice that something amazing had happened, beyond the unexplained tragedy of his friend's death.

Riker hesitated as he watched the coffin being set down on the plinth at the east end of the chapel. Where had he gotten that thought from? After a moment, he shook the thought away and rejoined his friends standing guard around the coffin.

Riker tuned out from the first part of the service – his and his friends' duty was to stand guard as the long line of mourners filed past to give their last respects. Indeed, he saw some of the terrible sorrow which was felt by some of those who walked past, and it took all of his self-control to keep his mind from the bitter grief he also felt.

He watched as they moved slowly past; humans, Klingons, Romulans, Ferengi, Bajorans, Cardassians; some Riker knew, most he did not. Occasionally, one of them might stop and briefly offer words of condolence to the officers standing guard around the plinth, who would respond equally briefly and move back into their statuesque positions. Later, Kai Adaya of Bajor would tell Riker that Picard's officers' act of devotion and loyalty was the most impressive and moving they had ever experienced.

But now, Riker and his friends stood solemn, silent guard around the body of the man who had forged them into one unity.

* * *

After a few hours, Riker forced his stiffened leg muscles to move. He stepped forward and gave the necessary orders. Slowly, formally, the honour guard surrounded the coffin again, hoisting it gently onto their shoulders again for the last walk out of the chapel. 

Once they had left the chapel, they found that the assembled crowd had formed a long corridor for them to follow up the little hill to a small tree which grew alone there. Slowly, they wound their way up the hill to this tree, beside which was another plinth and a small lectern.

Riker directed the guard to place the coffin down and then waited until they had assembled a little way off as he moved over to the lectern, whereupon he found his handwritten notes. He felt the expectant hush settle over the gathering, all of whom focused their eyes upon the first officer.

He took a deep breath, feeling suddenly deeply weary. 'Captain Jean-Luc Picard was born a few miles from here, over this hill, down in the local hospital in the town below us, in the year 2305. Son of Yvette and Maurice, brother of Robert. He joined Starfleet in 2323 and graduated in 2327, the outstanding cadet of his year.

'After graduation, he gained his first major starship assignment aboard the USS _Stargazer_, and was cited for his skill in saving that vessel after her captain was killed in a firefight – Jean-Luc was promoted to captain the _Stargazer_ after that incident, a post he held for 22 years until her destruction in battle. Even in that sad event, he still gained triumph, destroying the aggressive enemy vessel and being awarded the Grankite Order of Tactics (Class of Excellence) for originating the Picard Manoeuvre.

'Now one of the top commanders in Starfleet, he was given oversight responsibility for the development and construction of the _Galaxy_-class of starships, assuming command of the second such vessel to be launched, the USS _Enterprise_.'

Will paused for a moment, remembering the call from Captain DeSoto, informing him that Picard had chosen him, then Lieutenant-Commander Riker, to be his first officer. He remembered their first, difficult meeting; remembered the intensity of the man who stood before him and the immediate desire to impress that he had felt.

He continued, 'After a long and successful captaincy, including first contact with 27 species, including the Q, the Ferengi and the Borg, he was granted command of the new _Enterprise-E_ after the destruction of the first, saving the Veridian system from destruction by the Klingon renegades Lursa and B'Etor. He can be credited with the successful defence of Earth from the Borg invasion of 2373.'

Riker paused again. 'That is the official record,' he said. 'It tells you a little about the skills and talent of the man we have come to honour. But there was far more to this man than a mere retelling of his achievements. He was a man who was uniquely suited to what he was called on to do. His leadership inspired so many of us here to do our utmost, beyond what any us felt we were capable of. His friendship forged the closest and most powerful bonds of unity between any crew I have ever served with. As a leader, warrior, diplomat, friend and father figure, he gave all the best that his character and strengths could give – and expected, and received, no less.'

Riker let his gaze sweep over those before him. 'In this way, I can say with no fear of being contradicted that we have lost the finest Starfleet officer – indeed, one of the finest human beings in the Federation.'

He glanced at Deanna for a moment, and immediately regretted it, seeing a single tear running down her cheek. He fought back the emotion once again to continue, 'All of what I have said thus far can be seen, read or deduced from an official service record. What I want to share is what he meant to me, his first officer for nearly 16 years.

'Many times, I have been asked this question; why do I not have a command of my own? Why am I content to serve under another, when I could be forging a legend of my own somewhere on the frontier? Why have I let other officers, younger than I, move past me into the command ranks I should have been trailblazing before them?

'All of the time, I have said simply that I wished to remain on the _Enterprise_. That I was happy where I was. I believe many people believed that I only wanted to inherit the captain's chair from Captain Picard. I think, had that been the case, that I would have answered Starfleet's call long ago, when it became clear that he had as little interest in leaving the _Enterprise_ as I did.'

Riker did not need to look at his notes, speaking from his heart now. 'Instead, I stayed on board because of the unique nature of the situation aboard the _Enterprise_ and among her senior staff and, particularly, the nature of the bond I shared with Jean-Luc. When I was offered command of the USS _Melbourne_ before the first Borg incursion, I wrestled with the possibilities the role had to offer me. But when I thought about what I would lose in leaving, I realised that I could not do such a thing.

'All of this was due to one man. Jean-Luc Picard taught me how to command, how to lead, how to truly understand the role of starship captain. He was a mentor to me like I had never really had before. He and I shared many experiences, some joyful; some dangerous; some terrifying; some painful; some that were too unbelievable to be described.

'But we were his family too, not merely his fellow officers and crew – he described us as such often. I have always felt like his son. We were closer than many could understand – closer than I ever thought I could be with a fellow officer. We were friends, but in a way that transcended the ordinary relationship between first officer and captain. We thought and acted almost as one. We had our disagreements, but they were the disagreements that came of a true and honest respect for each other. There were moments then that I hoped would last forever – but nothing ever does.'

Riker paused one last time. 'Two years ago, I had the happiest experience of my life, when I was best man to Captain Picard when he married Lieutenant Rosanna Thames.'

There was a ripple of surprise at this, many of those present not having been aware of such an event. Riker carried straight on. 'It was the happiest because I could see that my friend was able to experience a love and companionship which he had been denying himself for many years, purely and simply to be able to serve his ship, his Federation and his fellow officers to his best ability. Now, he could be permitted to experience something no man deserved more.

'Lieutenant Thames was killed in battle a few weeks later. In order to preserve Captain Picard from harm, for reasons that only the most pertinent people should or will ever know, we were forced to give her no honour. This was the greatest injustice for both her and my friend.'

Riker stepped back. 'Now, we will go and reunite them again. But as we leave, I leave you with a thought that I want you to remember. When we leave here, when we go back to our lives and our jobs, our everyday existence – when we do, remember only that Captain Jean-Luc Picard died saving us all from something none of us, not even those who stood with him in that final reckoning, could truly understand. But he managed it. Victory, even at the last despite. When all hope had gone, Jean-Luc Picard stood, faced and defeated that which threatened us all. He gave his life to do so. He gave an extraordinary life because he felt that all of us were worth that sacrifice. Make sure that he was proved right.'

For a moment, there was no reaction, but then applause broke out. Massive, tumultuous applause broke out, many standing in their ovation and letting their emotion show. The sound rolled out over the hills, the sound of hundreds of beings voicing their approval and their exuberant appreciation carried on for many minutes.

But Riker only stepped back, knowing that the applause was not so much for his speech as it was for the man whom he had eulogised. He nodded to Deanna, who galvanised the rest of the honour guard, who vented their emotion more explosively than any one else, into action. Quickly, they surrounded and lifted the coffin. Behind them followed the closest friends and family, who surrounded the coffin and waited a moment.

Riker looked out over the sea of faces, knowing that he had done his final duty to his friend well. He pressed his communicator. 'Riker to Starfleet transport. Energise.'

In a glow of light, all of those stood on the hill vanished.

* * *

A moment later, the small group materialised on a small island in a large lake. Adjoining the land upon which the Thames house stood, this island had been shaped and built by the engineering crew of the _Enterprise_ in order to bury Rosanna Thames. Now another open grave lay there, marked already with a headstone. Around the lake there were a few wisps of the traditional English winter fog still remaining from the morning's sunrise, which gave the site a strange ethereal quality. 

Riker gave the order and, while supported by Worf, Hedly and Data, Geordi, O'Brien and Troi removed the UFP flag from the coffin and folded it in the approved, traditional fashion. While this happened, the Thames family, followed by Beverly, Marie, Guinan and Anij made their way to the gravesite. There, beside the open grave ready to receive Captain Picard's remains, was the headstone and marker for Rosanna Thames. The two would be buried side by side.

Finally, three tightly folded triangles were handed to Riker by Deanna. Three flags had been draped across the coffin – one was the UFP symbol, which had been uppermost, one was the emblem of Starfleet, and the last was the crest of the Picard family, which Data had dug up from somewhere in the archives. It had been disused for centuries, but Riker was confident, however, that Picard's strong pride in his heritage would have meant the captain knew about it.

Riker first took the UFP flag and handed it to Anij. She looked quite stunned by what happened around her, but she accepted it, tears in her eyes, suddenly realising that she would never see Jean-Luc again. For someone who came from a deathless world, that was a terrible thought.

Then Riker took the Starfleet flag, and handed it to Beverly. She took it sadly, cradling it in her arms as she wept silently. On impulse, Riker reached out to her and took her hand. 'I'm truly sorry, Beverly.'

She looked at him and forced a smile, but her eyes still streamed tears. 'I know, Will. So am I.'

Riker bit his lip to force the tears back. He turned, took the final flag bearing the Picard family crest, and handed it to Andrea Thames. 'Mrs Thames – I apologise for what has happened in the past. I am truly, terribly sorry for all your loss and –'

Impulsively, Andrea Thames reached out and embraced Will Riker, silencing him as he realised he had begun to babble. With that one act, she let go of what had happened in the past and simply whispered, 'Thank you for restoring my daughter to who she really was. I'll never forget what you said.'

Riker held the embrace for a moment, before taking a pace back and joining the rest of the honour guard. For the last time, they surrounded the coffin. Worf and Data picked it up, supporting it while the others ran straps underneath it.

Slowly, carefully, they supported and balanced it on those straps, manoeuvred it over the grave, and lowered it slowly down until it reached the bottom.

Once this had been done, each of them gave their last goodbye to their friend and singly or in little groups, and then headed for the small bridge which crossed the narrow point of the lake and thence for the house, where the Thames' had asked them to join in a small wake.

Riker was the last to leave. He gazed down into the grave, looked upon the coffin which held the remains of his friend and captain. He had no more to say; no more that he could give to the memory of Jean-Luc Picard. Yet something held him there for longer than the others, head bowed, hoping that his friend had found his way. But here, now, he could not see how.

After a moment, he heard a soft voice say his name. He looked up, and saw Deanna smiling gently at him. She held out her hand. 'The others are waiting for us.'

Riker gave the grave one last glance. But it held nothing for him anymore. Turning, he took Deanna's hand in his and together, they walked across the bridge and down towards the house, leaving behind them the lake and the island which held the last remnants of their dearest friend, fading away slowly into the mists of time.


	22. Coda

_Coda: Two months later…_

Beverly Crusher MD placed her commbadge on top of her uniform and sealed the suitcase over the top of the small pile of items with no feeling of regret.

Beside the bed in her quarters aboard the _Enterprise_ there was a small bedside table. On that table were a small vase and a piece of paper. The paper was a note from the governor of the small colony of Caldos, granting her permission to settle. She intended to set up a home there, following in the footsteps of many generations of her mother's family.

She had informed all of her friends the week before she had handed in her resignation. None of them were truly shocked, but there was some surprise. But, in a move typical of his generosity, Riker had bullied the new C in C of Starfleet into allowing the _Enterprise_ to ferry Beverly to her new home. At this precise moment, the new regime at Starfleet was giving the new captain of the _Enterprise_ almost anything he wanted.

Beverly placed the suitcase on the deck by her bed and then shivered as she felt a chill run through her without warning. She looked around, puzzled as to how that might have happened, and then realised –

The empty vase had a flower in it.

Slowly, she moved across to the bedside table and picked the flower carefully from the vase. A beautifully delicate purple orchid had been placed there by an unseen hand, and for a moment, Crusher thought she heard a voice on the cusp of hearing.

Then silence again.

But she was not easily fooled. She turned and made for the door.

* * *

Stood in a corridor two decks below Beverly's quarters, William Riker's hand unconsciously strayed again to his collar, whereupon he felt the four pips of captaincy, one slightly shinier than the others. 

Troi slapped his hand gently. 'Will, please stop doing that.'

'Sorry,' he muttered guiltily. 'It just still feels… odd.'

Deanna gave him a slightly worried look, but hid it under the mask of her love for him.

A few days after the funeral, Will had been called in to see Admiral Rynar for a short discussion. At that discussion, he had been told that the _Titan_ was to be offered to someone else and that Riker would be assigned command of the _Enterprise_ when she was ready to cruise again.

After that conversation, Troi had found him in his quarters, staring quietly at the fourth pip which had been awarded to him as the newest captain in the fleet. When she had asked him what was wrong, he had not answered, but had resumed a mask which he had worn ever since. It was a mask that hid his true feelings from her and those around him and, she suspected, also from Riker himself.

Suddenly, Riker found himself shivering as he felt a chill breeze sweep around him. Troi saw this. 'Will, are you okay?'

Riker hesitated, but before he found time to answer, he suddenly realised that there was a padd lying on the deck before him. He bent down slowly to pick it up. Behind him, Troi looked at what was written on it and gasped.

At that moment, Beverly came hurrying down the corridor to them. 'Will!'

They turned, noting the orchid which Beverly carried with some surprise. 'What's that?' asked Riker.

'It was in my room,' she replied. 'I don't know how it got there.'

Riker's commbadge bleeped. 'Data to Riker.'

'Riker here.'

'Captain, I think you had better come to –'

'Ten-Forward?' said Riker, looking at the padd.

There was a pause. 'That's right, sir.'

'I'll be there immediately,' replied Riker.

* * *

They arrived in Ten-Forward to find Data, who wore command red for the first time, La Forge and Hedly all there before them. But Riker's gaze wasn't taken up by the friends saw before him, but by what they were all staring at through the windows before them. Silently, the trio joined their friends looking out at the stars. 

To their eyes only, it was as if a giant door had opened in the cosmos, connecting them, for a brief second, with another world entirely.

From behind that door, they heard a familiar voice, one they had heard many times, yet subtly different. It spoke to them all in different words, but the tone was the same; reassuring, compassionate, caring. The voice was warm and soft in their minds, yet intense and powerful, firing them all with the knowledge of whose mind was behind what they heard.

And it gave them all the same message. 'Go forward, don't look back. Believe in yourselves, for I always believed in you. Make your futures brighter without me, rather than looking back to a past which will always seem more golden with the passing of the years. Be well, my friends. Farewell.'

The voice fell silent. The stars reappeared once more.

No-one spoke. Then, slowly, carefully, Beverly placed her hand upon the window and whispered, 'Farewell, Jean-Luc.'

'That _was_ the captain,' said Data, his voice soft.

Troi nodded, tearfully. The emotion around her had become to strong for her to block out. She felt La Forge's confusion, but also his acceptance. She felt Hedly's strong confidence become even greater and more solid. She felt Data's awe of what he had experienced. She felt the frost melting from around Beverly's heart, as she contemplated what she had been told and finally began to acknowledge that she would be able to move on.

She looked at Riker. For a moment, he stared out at the stars, and then he turned to his officers and for the first time, Troi saw the confidence he had once held returning to him, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He then smiled a familiar smile which warmed Troi's heart beyond her ability to speak.

When he spoke, Riker's voice was warm, friendly, but also held the command tone which they had heard many times in his voice before. It caught them, held them and confirmed that he was now ready to take command. 'My friends, we have a voyage to make.'

* * *

Thus it was that the senior crew emerged onto the bridge of the _Enterprise_. Hedly made straight for her console, while Geordi made for the aft consoles. Beverly also followed, standing to one side as the crew prepared the ship to get underway. 

Troi and Data went to their chairs either side of Riker, who paused for a moment, staring at the centre chair of command. Troi heard him whisper, 'Goodbye, Jean-Luc.'

He sat in the chair, and for the first time felt truly at home there. 'Status report, Mr Truper.'

'All systems are fully functional, captain,' replied the helmsman. 'Spacedock control has given us full clearance.'

'Warp engines are online and ready for your command,' added Geordi.

Riker nodded. 'Clear all moorings, ready for departure.'

'Aye, sir, moorings cleared,' replied Truper.

Riker paused, before giving the order. He glanced at Data. 'Is the crew ready, Number One?'

Data jumped slightly at the reference, but then smiled back at Riker. 'We're all ready, Captain.'

Captain Riker smiled and turned his eyes to the screen. 'Let's see what's out there.'

* * *

The sleek dark hull of the _Enterprise_ broke from her confinement within the giant Spacedock orbiting Earth and plunged forward into the inky deeps of space. For a moment, she seemed to gather herself, holding herself steady for the final moment. 

Her warp engines blazed.

Space changed around her.

The USS _Enterprise_ leapt forward in a blaze of light, vanishing beyond sight and beyond sound, leaving everything else in her wake.

* * *

Captain's Log: Stardate 55213.8 – Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship _Enterprise_. Her ongoing mission – to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilisations. To boldly go where no one has gone before! 

_The End of the Third Book of the Final Reckoning _

_ The End of the Final Reckoning_

NB - I began writing Ultimate Vision (then called The Final Reckoning) as a small contest between friends at school, who challenged me to see how long a story I could write. I was 16 at the time and the first draft came in at around 20,000 words.

Since then this tale has, quite literally, grown in the telling. The first inspiration for The Woman Unknown came about half-way through my slightly feverish rewrite of Ultimate Vision, as I insanely decided to add a second part onto the story. My idea for Focal Point came as I finished the first draft of The Woman Unknown, driving me onwards to finish the trilogy.

The initial ideas, as with so many of these things, came strongly after the release of Star Trek: First Contact, which can be seen at the point in which Ultimate Vision begins. Since then, the changes to the Star Trek universe have come thick and fast with the endings of DS9, Voyager, and then the releases of Insurrection, Enterprise and Nemesis. I have decided, in completing Focal Point (which I started first, so nyah) to ignore completely the events of Nemesis and carry on and hold true to the existing ideas and concepts I kept in my head. Thus the ending of Focal Point was the same as I originally imagined when I first plotted it out in 2000, using First Contact as my lode stone.

I feel I have to apologise to those of you I kept on a massive cliff-hanger for the best part of a year, without updating. Chiefly, this was due to significant changes in my personal life, such as my marriage. I hope that I have been able to conclude the story in a manner which you believe to be in keeping with what I had already written.

Thanks for reading this and sharing this experience with me. It has been, in many literal respects, the time of my life!

Ben Pieper, Yorkshire, United Kingdom  
18 February 2007


End file.
